Ten Seconds That Changed My World
by dinabar
Summary: Nikki is in love with Mr Perfect; even Harry believes he is Mr Perfect until he discovers he is definitely Mr Wrong. Harry has always been Mr Wrong Timing but could this be his chance to become Mr Perfect?
1. Chapter 1

**No tinsel, no trimmings and not even a good Christmas mystery. It does touch on the need for a saviour which is perhaps closer to the true meaning of Christmas in my opinion but feel free to let me know/ask questions.**

**If 'eek' were a category I guess this would be it; BUT it is Christmas after all.**

**Over Cautious T: adult themes, indirect reference to violence**

**Harry, Nikki and Leo belong to the BBC, the lawyers are mine… In my research for this it said, 'keep court scenes short, and assume your audience knows even less about the procedures than you do.' I would never dream of underestimating you all like that and so will apologise in advance for any errors, I hope they don't spoil you're enjoyment.**

**Oh and reviews make wonderful Christmas gifts you know and they're free : )**

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><p><strong>Ten Seconds That Changed My World<strong>

"Dr. Cunningham! Answer the question Mr Singh put to you. Let me remind you, you are still under oath. Mr Singh would you repeat your question please."

"Dr. Cunningham, have you ever hurt Nikki Alexander?"

There was another pause.

"Answer the question; or I will hold you in contempt of this court and have you locked up," the judge declared.

"I have," Harry mumbled.

There was an audible gasp from the people located in the court room close enough to hear.

"Could you repeat that please, Dr Cunningham, the stenographer didn't hear you?"

"I said, 'Yes I have.'" He looked blankly out into the court room. He didn't dare meet Nikki's gaze, but even so he could feel her eyes boring into him. He didn't need to see them to know they were full of hurt and sadness and regret. He caught Leo's eye instead; he just shook his head silently at him, with such a look of disappointment that Harry couldn't bear to look there either.

How had it come to this? He felt lost and alone, he had only been trying to help.

"I'm calling for an adjournment," the judge announced. "We will continue with your evidence later Dr Cunningham, as you are in the middle of your testimony I am placing you under the supervision of the court usher.

"All rise."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to all those who read and especially reviewed; glad you like the eek factor.**

The room Harry found himself in looked as if it had been a badly converted store room, or maybe an old file archive, from a time before, when a room's worth of information couldn't be held on a tiny plastic stick. It did have a window, but the leaden skies just added to his feeling of depression. There was a table, two chairs, both bolted to the floor and a prisoner's copy of the Gideon Bible.

He leant against the wall and peered out the window. Looking down on the street below he watched the cars stopping and starting, weaving in and out of the parked cars, taking turns to crawl another five hundred yards of their day's journey.

His life he surmised was like a journey, one that he had started at the top of a cliff or gorge and that day by day as time passed he plodded on and on inexorably downwards, further from the sunlight and with no promise anymore that the beautiful mountain stream that he remembered glimpsing at the top was even there at the bottom waiting for him. There were plateaux as the path meandered less steeply backwards and forwards down the side of the cliff; those were the periods of stability in his life, and then there were the cataclysmic drops, where everything changed in a matter of seconds.

That's how it had all begun.

How this had all begun.

How he had ended up here on this awful Tuesday morning.

Ten seconds that had changed everything.

He knew the feeling.

He recognised it instantly.

He had felt it for the first time nearly thirty years ago.

He imagined himself looking back up towards the top of the gorge, tracing the path he had followed, seeing that first drop where the world had suddenly fallen away from him. He knew exactly when it was. That time; when the path plunged him into the shadows, and where no sun reached him for years afterwards.

The first ten seconds that changed his world.

"Come in Cunningham," he'd heard the Headmaster call in response to his quavering knock.

Imagining that sight now still made his stomach lurch, even though he'd blocked many of the details from his memory. He did however remember his mother's best coat, her business like demeanour and that look of overwhelming pain.

He was smart enough to realise his life would never be the same again; the death of his father had had a profound impact on him but even so the journey continued. The path levelled again, the turning Earth finally allowing the sunlight to fall across his path once more.

He didn't want to look back; there were plenty of those dropping places. Tiny moments in time when the world continued to turn for everyone else but where he was cast down, into the gloom; lost loves and opportunities, secrets and revelations, terror and relief. There were so many, some steeper than others. He wouldn't look back; it would only confirm his suspicion that his journeys' end was not that clear and cool mountain stream, burbling through a tranquil meadow but a descent into hell itself.

"Can you get me a new box of gloves please?"

Who could have imagined that that would be the phrase, the words that changed everything?

But they were, and that was another awful Tuesday morning he thought wryly.

If only the new lab tech had done their job properly.

If only his hands weren't so big.

If only she were taller…

If only he hadn't looked

If only…

If only…

But it had happened, ten seconds no more no less but that familiar feeling was back. That feeling that life would never be the same, when all you once thought you knew and understood simply vanished in an instant and all was darkness, and fear and confusion and pain.

"Nikki, Can you get me a new box of gloves please?"

She had shot him a look of course, she wasn't his lackey and they both knew it, but these situations required a response. It was almost mandatory in the quirky and unpredictable relationship rules that they adhered to.

But she was too short to reach into the high cupboard, and his hands were scrubbed and clean ready to begin work. So she had fetched the stool, climbed up and reached for a new box of latex free extra-large. There had been a joke in that once upon a time, but even she had tired of mocking his big hands and sensitive skin.

She had reached up and the sleeves of her scrubs had fallen back, and just at the same instant when he could have been taking the preliminary notes from his new body, he looked up at her and saw what he never wanted to see. What even today he wished had never been there. He saw, and she knew and their eyes connected and the world as he knew it suddenly disappeared.

To anyone else it wouldn't have mattered of course. But he wasn't anyone else. He was Harry and it mattered to him. It really mattered to him.

Four brown marks, one set on the back of each arm, with no doubt the matching thumb print on the front, only he couldn't see that side from where he was standing. She knew he had seen them, she knew he had seen them for what they were. She didn't catch his eye again. Not even when handing over the box of gloves. She knew he knew what they were and how they had got there and for once she had nothing to say.

He knew it was his fault.

Why was it always his fault?

"Answer the question Dr Cunningham!" the words the judge and spoken to him just now rang in his ears.

"Have you ever hurt Nikki Alexander?"

"Yes I have," he ran his fingers through his hair and banged his head lightly against the window frame muttering all the expletives he knew to the rhythm of the banging.


	3. Chapter 3

**Two for you today, my lovelies, with thanks for all your kind words. Hope this goes some way to answering some of your questions.**

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><p>It was later in the locker room she finally caught his eye.<p>

"Sometimes we like to play a bit rough," she said shyly and quickly looked away.

Harry held his hand up to stop her; he didn't want to hear the details. He had seen what he had seen, he was a forensic pathologist, he knew what had caused those marks and he could always tell when she was lying.

It was still his fault though.

Why was everyone in her life so awful? Her father, her boyfriends, him even. He wondered how she carried on some days.

She had left the locker room quickly; although initially it had only taken ten seconds for the truth to dawn, there were many more pieces of the puzzle that began to fall into place now. The long sleeved blouses, the t-shirt under the scrubs, the way she always changed on her own now. He had never had any qualms about stripping off in front of her, he still didn't but now as he thought about it, there had been a time when she had done the same. Not naked of course, but down to her underwear. That had stopped too, and now he knew why. He also knew when it had started.

It was definitely his fault.

He looked figuratively back up the journey of his life to the darkest part of the path. The place he never tried to remember but that was always there to haunt him. The part where the trees crowded across the track; not making a picturesque tunnel of colour but a suffocating, black passageway, just wide enough to squeeze through.

Hungary.

Budapest.

Martyr's Memorial.

His memories of Anna had grown distant and hazy over time. He hardly even believed that child of hers was his now. It just seemed so unreal, the whole thing really, so strangely out of the ordinary for him. Not falling for a pretty girl, that he had never had a problem with but being there in that foreign city, chasing a murderer, running from the police, following strangers, begging advice from prostitutes, killing a man... It was such an aberration in his mundane life story it was hard to imagine that it was real.

One part though was very real; the part that after all this time had never left him. The face and sound that haunted his worst nightmares and they were nothing to do with Anna. It was that terrible sound of grief and wretchedness and pain that had escaped from Nikki as he had caught her in his arms that day. That, he could never forget. That noise was so primal, so raw; even now he would shudder as he remembered it.

She had turned in his arms to look into his eyes and despite everything else that was going on, something locked them together in that moment of shared tragedy and of rediscovery. Something had been created in that instant, a strengthening of the bond already there between them but now it was so strong it was almost tangible. Before Hungary they had been best friends, lovers even; in a platonic way but now it was as if they had been lashed together and the ramifications would permeate every part of their existence from now on.

You couldn't he reasoned hold a woman in your arms and listen to her anguished cries because she thought you were dead and not realise that she had feelings for you; that you had feelings for her. Feelings that went way beyond that platonic love of best friends. And this new thing that was between them, that intense bond, established on the steps in Budapest became a seed or bud, an expectation of something more; for the moment dormant but with all the promise of newness come spring time.

But instead of allowing something new to germinate; Harry festered in the pain and the shock and the strength of her grief because he knew he had been the sole cause of it. It ate away at his soul.

As he finally adjusted; stopped jumping whenever a car door slammed, stopped expecting the next police car to be the one to put another bullet in him and started to get on with the process of living again it became clear to him that there was now an unstated hope between the two of them. A chance for him to act on all that had passed between them, when he was ready.

But spring time came and spring time went and he was too cowardly to act. Too unsure of himself, too certain that it would all go wrong. So he allowed nothing to grow, nothing more between them than there ever had been before and he threw himself into his work to blot out the voices that told him he was weak, that he was a coward, that he was hurting her all over again.

If all that wasn't bad enough, then came another of those cataclysmic ten seconds. It really shouldn't have happened, he was so stupid.


	4. Chapter 4

He'd gone out drinking with the detective on a case he'd been working on, he'd not been out properly for months and for once it felt good to be drinking too much, having fun and chatting up girls. All until the next morning when he woke to a voice saying:

"Who the F*** is that? You told me you weren't married?"

"I'm not," he remembered mumbling, cursing the pain in his head made only worse by the furious thought processes he was using to remember the girl's name.

"Well who the f*** is using your coffee machine at 6:30 in the morning?" she continued.

"Harry, I've made you coffee, I've come to take you to work, Leo needs us at the scene as soon as we can, if you're not out of there in ten seconds I'm coming in," came Nikki's voice from beyond your door.

"No!" he cried.

"I'm counting: one, two…" Nikki began.

"Shit!" exclaimed the foul mouthed, no named occupant of his bed.

"Come on Harry, I've seen it all before, you're not normally shy," Nikki called out.

"Nikki, No!" he'd shouted. But even as the words escaped his lips he heard her opening the bedroom door.

In hindsight he figured she had taken it rather calmly. Unlike his bedfellow who had let rip a whole list of obscenities at his colleague.

"I'll be waiting in the car," Nikki had said, her voice cold and clinical.

He'd apologised of course, said it meant nothing, he was drunk, he was stupid, he claimed he was still unsure of her name but none of it mattered. All that actually mattered was that he had slept with someone and it wasn't Nikki. Everything, anything that had started back there at the Memorial had promised that when the time was right, it would be Nikki he turned to. He hadn't. Now any burgeoning bud or seed of what had begun between the two of them there had been cut off, dug up and thrown on the fire.

After the initial shock, the final realisation that after all this time, after all that had happened, there would now never be anything more between the two of them, he began to become accustomed to the new dynamics. It was releasing in a way, no more pent up sexual frustration. No more longing looks; stolen when no one else was looking. Watching her eyes rather than her sensuous mouth when she was talking to him; he actually began to understand a whole lot more of what she was going on about. It was friendly and just that friendly.

He was even pleased when she introduced him to her new boyfriend. He seemed a decent bloke and she deserved to be happy. He knew by then that he could never make her happy and she did deserve to be happy. He didn't know where she had found this Andrew but he did treat her like a princess and her face shone with happiness. After all those no-hopers that he was always jealous of suddenly he was aware that he were even making an effort to like the man.

Andrew was a police officer turned barrister, so he understood her work, and the hours and her painstaking compulsiveness to find every last detail. He was smart, generous, handsome even. His mother was American so he had that toothy white smile that only the Yanks can achieve and preferred to be called Drew but that wasn't really something he could hold against him. In short he really was Mr Right.

And Harry was relieved.

For a while.

Until it became blindingly apparent that he was definitely Mr Wrong.

But by then, it was too late.


	5. Chapter 5

**For Flossie, because she asked very nicely and for Ana who helped me out with the beginning. Thanks.**

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><p>"Harry, what the hell was that about? I thought you knew how these things work. What were you playing at out there? Are you trying to get this case dismissed?"<p>

Harry's barrister Giles Chisholm blundered through the door, dumping his pile of briefs on the table and glaring at Harry, who was still staring out of the window.

"What?" Harry asked meekly.

"What? What! Harry how long have you been working on this? Six months, more? You do realise the defence don't have to prove that scumbag didn't do it; they just have to make the jury believe that someone else could have been responsible. You promised me no surprises," he said pulling off his wig and throwing it down on the table.

"What's the surprise? We've worked closely together for eight years, of course I've hurt her." Harry replied.

"This is not about some office tiff Harry, this is serious," Giles implored.

"I know, but it's true, I have hurt her."

"This is a trial for assault and battery, answering one of the first questions after the opening statements with the assurance that you, a witness for the prosecution had hurt the victim was not the best way to start proceedings. You are still a witness on the side of the prosecution aren't you?"

"Of course I am," Harry replied turning round to face the other man.

"Then why did you do it?" Giles asked.

"Do what?" Harry asked. His brain was still clouded from his thoughts as he'd stared out the window; he wasn't quite ready for his barrister's fast questions and lightning speed analyses.

"Why did you tell everyone out there, including the jury who you want to prosecute Andrew Moorcroft, and the bastard himself, that you were responsible for hurting Nikki Alexander? You're not having a change of heart are you? Is there something you're not telling me?"

"I didn't say I was responsible for hurting her, you're making me sound like the perpetrator now," Harry replied.

"Er Yes! Harry that's what that whole room full of assembled people think too, how could you have been so stupid?" Giles demanded.

"But I didn't mean it like that, the judge asked me if I had hurt Nikki, and under oath I had to say yes to that," Harry answered.

"But that wasn't really the question was it? You have to assume Harry that the jury are pretty stupid, that most of them don't follow this high moral code of yours. They heard you admit to hurting the victim, and that is not going to look good for the prosecution," Giles stated.

"But doesn't it sound more like the truth? I have never thrown a punch at her but our relationship has never been without its disagreements and then there's always Hungary."

"Hungary?" Giles repeated.

"I let her think I was dead," Harry said quietly.

"What and three days later you rose again?" Giles said sarcastically.

"Something like that," Harry mumbled. "Look, Giles, you have my word, all the evidence I have shown you, everything I have done has been to protect Nikki from that monster. I was never the cause of any of the bruises or injuries in the evidence photographs you have, but to say that I haven't ever caused her pain, haven't hurt her, is a lie. What more can I tell you?" Harry stated.

"You'd better go back and start at the beginning. I've spent the last twenty minutes begging the judge to extend this adjournment until after lunch, so you'd better start talking. This time don't leave anything out!" Giles commanded.

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><p><strong>Is that a sigh of relief I hear? Let me know…<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for sticking with this, I know the subject made a lot of you jittery, and thanks to all who reviewed.**

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><p>Harry sat in the chair, it was bolted to the floor slightly too close to the table for someone his height to sit in it comfortably, so he had to lean his elbows on the table and sit as far back in the chair as possible.<p>

"Nikki and I, we've always been friends, comrades in arms, inseparable really and with such a history of shared pain that from the minute she walked into our office, she became the most important woman in my life, without me even noticing. But we were careful, cautious; neither of us had a great track history with full on relationships and as time wore on, it became too much of a risk. I couldn't take the chance of losing her friendship just because I fancied shagging her. I was never really sure she felt the same way about me anyway. Not until Hungary." Harry explained.

"Yes you mentioned Hungary earlier," Giles interrupted, was there a good reason you let her think you were dead?"

"I was wanted by the police in connection with the violent stabbing and murder of my girlfriend at that time," Harry said quietly.

Giles eyes were wide like saucers, his mouth opened but nothing came out.

"It was nothing to do with me," Harry added quickly, "I disturbed the murderer, chased after him that's how I came to be wanted in the first place so I needed sometime to prove his guilt and my innocence."

"And you did that by faking your own death?" Giles asked.

"Yes I did." Harry stated.

"I don't want to know the details do I?" said Giles shaking his head slightly. "This really isn't the time to be telling me this you know, if it comes out, it will destroy your credibility as a witness you know."

"But that doesn't matter, does it." Harry insisted. Because you don't even need my evidence; you have a file of photographs, and the hospital reports that are all the evidence you'll ever need. I made sure of that when I began."

"So why is this so important?" Giles asked. "Why is Hungary the turning point that changes everything?"

"Because I needed my colleague's help, I had to see them," Harry explained.

"When you were 'dead'?" Giles did the quotation marks with his fingers and looked like a fatter and only slightly more genial version of Dr Evil.

"Yes, I wanted them to plant evidence…" Harry stopped when he noticed the now appalled look on his barrister's face. There was silence for a while. Harry tried to sit back in his chair, forgetting that it was bolted to the floor, and instead shoved the table into Giles' sternum.

"Sorry," Harry apologised and pulled the table away from him again.

"Why was Nikki in Hungary? You'd gone to see your girlfriend?" Giles looked puzzled.

"She was told that I was dead," Harry said simply as if jetting off immediately to a foreign country was the norm in these circumstances.

"Ah," said Giles beginning to nod his head. "I think I'm beginning to understand. After she thought you were dead, and then you weren't, there was no longer any ambiguity between the two of you with regards to your relationship."

"Exactly," said Harry and then paused for a bit.

"Until I slept with some highly strung, foul mouthed HR assistant and Nikki walked in on the two of us in bed" he finished quickly.

"That would do it," Giles nodded.

"So you see, you understand why I had to answer yes to that question about hurting her." Harry pleaded.

"I do," Giles said sympathetically. "However, on the stand you explain that your definition of hurt is letting someone down, and DON'T whatever you do DO NOT bring up anything to do with Hungary. I'm sure Moorcroft, Singh and his cronies know all about it, but if you don't bring it up they can't ask you anything about it." Giles looked sternly at Harry. He looked at his watch, they had plenty of time. He quite liked a good story after all.

"Any more?" he asked.

Harry however had run out of steam.

"So Nikki, never forgave you and went off and found herself a real man," Giles suggested.

"Thanks," Harry replied sarcastically but then added, "yes and to start with I really liked him, I tried hard to like him because he made Nikki happy, he really did make her happy, I've never seen her like that before it was like she was six foot tall and glowing and in love but bit by bit my confidence began to erode and suddenly I knew what I had to do.

"That's when you started taking the pictures?" Giles asked.

"When I was certain, by then we weren't really talking much, she wasn't talking much at all but I was so sure, and I was proved right every time." Harry said sadly.


	7. Chapter 7

"So what made you suspicious initially?" Giles asked.

But before Harry could answer the court clerk knocked on the door and informed them that the court was resuming session at one o'clock.

"One?" Giles almost screamed at the clerk. "Judge Evans, said she would give me until two!"

"Well maybe she changed her mind? You need to be back in position ready to resume at one, you've got" he checked his watch, "eight minutes."

Giles stood up quickly, pushing the table into Harry's chest this time.

"Sorry, I need to go and sort this out, there must be a mistake. But just in case there isn't and you go straight back up on that stand from now on you mention nothing more about hurting Nikki, you tell everyone just the facts of what happened. I don't want to hear any more emotional crap and whatever you do DON'T MENTION BUDAPEST!"

Giles grabbed his wig and papers and left at a run, his bulk wobbling and beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. Harry moved the desk back out of his ribcage and idly flicked through the Bible on the table. There was a list of useful passages for prisoners at the front of the book. The first one that caught his eye said:

"_Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."_ John 15:13

What was it that Giles had asked him? Asked him whether he was still a witness for the prosecution? He had seen the way Nikki had looked across at him; at Andrew Moorcroft. After all that had happened she was still in love with the man. Harry might not have been jealous of him at the beginning but he was now, how could he be so awful and yet have such a hold over her?

He suspected it was because the look she gave Drew was very like the look she had given him once, want and pain, longing and hope all mixed up together. He knew with utter certainty that despite everything that man had done to her, she really loved him.

It would be easy for him to convince the jury that there was reasonable doubt, he thought to himself remembering the words he had just read: 'that a man lay down his life for his friends.' He could so easily do it. He'd had to field off all those suspicious looks, and police questions that day he had taken her to the hospital. Everyone just assumed because he was the one with her, then he must have done it. He could easily take the fall for this, and leave the two of them to live happily ever after.

But that wasn't going to happen was it?

There would be no happily ever after. Nikki was in love with Andrew, but he doubted the same was true of Andrew. He'd already caused enough injuries to warrant being tried in Crown Court, so if he were released he would hardly be likely to change his behaviour now. What was that passage that was read out at every wedding he'd ever been to?

"_Love is patient, love is kind... it keeps no record of wrongs...it always_

_protects...always trusts…always perseveres"_

He couldn't remember it all, but those were the ones he always thought about. If those were the criteria for loving Nikki Alexander, he'd score more points than Drew.

There was a knock on the door.

"It's time to go Dr Cunningham," the clerk called through.

Giles would be livid, he'd have a heart attack before the end of the day if it carried on like this for much longer. Harry knew a court case against the swanky firm of Murchison, Bailey and Singh would be difficult. That's why he had been so diligent from the start with his record keeping. But already they were obviously pulling invisible strings that his affordable barrister could only dream of.

As Harry extricated his long legs from under the table his eyes fell on the open page of the Bible again.

"_And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." John 8:32_

'It better had,' he mumbled and followed the clerk back to the witness box.

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><p><strong>Coudn't help putting in quotes from the birthday boy himself; but it is Christmas...<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**So glad you're having fun in a dark and grim kind of way and thank you so much all you lovely reviewers.**

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><p>Harry resumed his place standing in the witness box; he could see Andrew Moorcroft sitting behind Giles and Ravi Singh. Mr Singh looked fresh, relaxed and at ease. Giles on the other hand looked like he hadn't used a mirror to replace his wig, and suddenly was in charge of a no brainer case that all of a sudden had taken an unexpected turn. Andrew Moorcroft looked charming and refined, it was no wonder he had had a successful career as a barrister himself, he was a consummate actor.<p>

"All rise."

This whole place was designed to be intimidating Harry surmised. There was obviously some reason that witnesses were required to stand throughout their evidence. No place to disguise, those give away non-verbal clues if they were lying but it also made it frightfully tiring and uncomfortable.

Judge Margaret Evans resumed her place, both barristers making the customary head nod to her as she sat down.

"Dr Cunningham," began Giles Chisholm. "My learned friend here asked you a question before the lunch break," he paused for effect and Harry tried desperately to remember what Giles had told him to say. "Would you like to tell the members of the court here, how exactly you hurt Dr Alexander?"

Nikki was out of Harry's eye line, he wondered why she was even there. There was no reason for the victims in these cases to be present at court but this was Nikki, and she'd would hardly be anywhere else would she? And she got to be in the same room as the man of her dreams.

"Erm,"

Giles glared at Harry.

"I let Dr Alexander believe that there was a possibility of a romance between us," Harry began. Why was he talking like a nineteenth century novel? It must be the surroundings he thought. "I flirted with her, and encouraged her to to…" He stuttered and then continued in a clear voice. "To fall in love with me and when she had I pushed her away and rejected her. That is what I meant when I said I had hurt her."

"And it was shortly after this break up between the two of you that Dr Alexander met Andrew Moorcroft?"

"Yes a couple of weeks," Harry confirmed.

"Were you jealous of her new boyfriend?"

"No; for once I wasn't. In many ways I was glad, I was seriously ashamed of the way I had treated her and I was happy that she had found someone who could make her happy." Harry replied.

"Can you describe the relationship, please Dr Cunningham?"

"Relevance" interjected Mr Singh

"I will let you continue Mr Chisholm," the judge replied.

"Can you describe the relationship between Dr Alexander and Andrew Moorcroft please," Giles repeated.

"They seemed very happy together, they met for drinks a number of times before some dates. I remember he took her to the ballet at Christmas, Nikki, sorry Dr Alexander seemed so excited about going and as she talked about it I realised that this man was really prepared to make an effort and that he would really make her happy and for the long term."

"Can you remember any other things they did in those early days?"

"I remember he took her to Cambridge for the weekend. He had hired a convertible sports car and all Nikki could tell me about it was that it was red. They did the usual touristy things, punting, picnics he never seemed to be a man in a hurry when it came to spending time with her. He always worked out every last detail of how to get the most out of their time together. They went out to shows and restaurants or he would cook her spectacular meals on those weekends when she was on call and couldn't leave London."

"And how did you feel about him?"

"At first I admired him," Harry said sincerely. What had he; Harry, ever done for her? He wondered cynically to himself; a day out at an air show that he wanted to go to, DVD's and takeout. It was hardly going to make a girl feel special.

"At first?" Giles repeated.

"My opinion changed after three months." Harry stated.

"And what made you change your opinion?" asked Giles.

"Dr Alexander started receiving gifts at work, sometimes just a card, or flowers, chocolates, pretty much anything that could be delivered really."

"And why did that make you change your opinion?"

"It was Nikki's reaction to them, she seemed embarrassed, not like a woman receiving a gift from her lover."

"And you can tell how she felt about them?" questioned Giles.

"I have worked alongside Dr Alexander for eight years; we have worked many difficult and traumatic cases together and we have become very close. Over the years I have become a pretty good judge of her emotions and reactions," Harry explained.

"And her reactions to the gifts?" prompted Giles.

"They made her sad," Harry concluded.


	9. Chapter 9

"Did you do anything with this supposition?" Giles asked.

"Not at first, for a while I was still caught up with how happy Andrew had made her, and how miserably I had treated her that I tried to ignore it, but there were three other instants that made me change my mind and confirmed for me the situation."

"Please elaborate," Giles interrupted.

"It was on the fourth of January, my colleague Zak Khan was taking pictures of a body brought in to be autopsied. There was a mark of interest on the victim's upper arm and Dr Alexander wanted photographic evidence for the post mortem report. It was important that the relative size of the mark was recorded and so we have small reference rulers that are placed on the body before the photograph is taken. Due to the location of the mark on the arm, the reference ruler kept sliding down and so Dr Alexander held it in place whilst the picture was being taken. The camera can often expose areas of bruising that are not visible to the naked eye and so photography is often used in our work.

"We're not here for a lecture on pathology Dr Cunningham," the judge scolded.

When the picture was developed there was no bruising present on the arm of the victim, but a very visible mark on the wrist of Dr Alexander."

"And how did you find out about this?"

"My colleague brought the picture to me as soon as he saw it."

"He didn't show it to Dr Alexander?" Giles asked.

"No, he printed a version in which her arm was not visible for the report. "

"And if anyone had asked Dr Alexander about the mark, could there have been an innocent explanation for it?" Giles suggested.

"I don't believe so. I investigate bruises for a living, this was not the kind of mark left by some game that got out of hand, this was serious," Harry confirmed.

"There was another incident?"

"Yes eight days later on the twelfth of January, in the course of our work I asked Dr Alexander to reach into one of the higher cupboards to pass me some equipment. As she raised her arms I saw more bruises to her upper arms."

"Again, could there be a more innocent explanation for these?"

"Not really, their location and orientation were not such that they could have been acquired during some sex game.

"And the third?"

"Again it was about a week later, and Dr Alexander had just received an amazing display of flowers, they were a variety of South African blooms, as I said Andrew Moorcroft always tried to make things special. I gave Dr Alexander a hug as I commented about how beautiful they were and how lucky she was."

"Relevance?" interjected Mr Singh again.

"You'll get your turn soon enough Mr Singh," the judge said.

"As I hugged her, I heard Nikki gasp in pain and clutch at her ribs," Harry explained.

"And what did you do then?"

"I took her by the hand and led her to the locker room, I closed the door, took the first aid box off the wall, removed her blouse and palpated her ribs to see if any were broken. I applied arnica cream to help with the bruising and I replaced her blouse."

Harry could see the eyes of the jury on him now. At the time it had seemed the most obvious thing to do. It wasn't how he'd imagined undressing Nikki in the locker room; he had a variety of those fantasies that he would occasionally dabble with on a lonely night.

"And this evidence led you to a conclusion." Giles prompted.

"It did, I concluded that Dr Alexander was being abused by Andrew Moorcroft on a regular basis and that the gifts she received were often delivered after an attack."

"And what did you do about this conclusion?"

"I read back through the transcripts of domestic abuse cases we had worked on. I found out exactly what evidence was needed by a court to secure a conviction, I bought a camera with a high enough spec. to collect the evidence needed and I waited. The next time a gift was delivered I showed her the camera and asked if she would let me photograph her."

"She agreed to the photographs, you did not coerce her in any way?"

"I did not coerce her and she did agree to the photographs."

"And all this, time and money spent by you. Why would you go to all that trouble?"

Harry didn't know how to answer. He had thought about it too in the months passed. There were many reasons he had convinced himself were true, but they didn't seem right for the moment now: 'she was my friend,' hardly seemed to cover it.

"Because I Iove her, I have always loved her and even though I was too cowardly to admit it to her or act on it before and I have caused her so much grief, I couldn't stand by and watch her get beaten by another man," he explained and let out a long breath.


	10. Chapter 10

**Things get a bit nasty temporarily as the evidence in the court case is presented, feel free to skip this chapter, it's not graphic but if you don't want it in your head that's fine with me.**

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><p>At this point the court usher circulated a collection of evidence photographs, to the members of the jury. Harry remembered each one, each mark, the cracked rib, burn and bruises. Andrew Moorcroft might be an excellent actor, but before he was a barrister he'd worked as a police officer for a couple of years in the late Eighties. Time enough to learn how to cause maximum pain, without leaving too much evidence. That's why that camera had been so expensive; it had to be able to take the UV pictures to capture the bruising that was there, but not visible to the eye. He had wondered about borrowing the one from the Lyell but he couldn't keep disappearing with University property. Not without making Leo suspicious anyway. He had taken some of the pictures at his flat, on the occasions she had actively sought his help. That had stopped though unsurprisingly after Moorcroft found out she had been at Harry's flat and cracked her rib for her betrayal.<p>

Harry looked at the faces of the members of the jury as they perused the pictures. Some looked as if they were turning the pages of the Daily Mail, some were clearly appalled, others tried hard not to look at all. He hoped they understood. He hoped they saw beyond the bruising to the emotional damage he had done to her, undermining all her self confidence. At first he too had been outraged by Moorcroft's mistreatment of Nikki, but it was the psychological abuse that actually Harry became more frightened of.

"Can you explain any changes you noticed in the relationship about this time, Dr Cunningham?" Giles continued.

The jury gratefully looked away from the evidence folders in front of them and back to the faces in the courtroom.

"It was at this time, that I noticed Dr Alexander begin to withdraw from other social activities she used to participate in," Harry began.

"But wouldn't that be normal at this stage in a relationship? To start to devote more time to your significant other?"

"It would, but not the way she did it. Dr Alexander didn't just gradually fade away from the works drinks nights etc. She just stopped. Stopped everything. She didn't leave her house unless Andrew was with her or she was going to work. If she had to work late, Andrew would often come to the office and sit and catch up on his work there. If she were working at a scene she would send him a text every hour or so to explain what she was doing and where she was," Harry explained.

"What did your colleagues think of this behaviour?" Giles asked.

"Some of them thought it was sweet how they wanted to spend so much time together,"

"And you?" asked Giles

"I thought it was controlling and suffocating, but every time I tried to speak to Nikki about it she would tell me that everything was fine, that she was happier than she had ever been."

"But you didn't believe her?"

"No; I did not."

"And why was that?"

"As I have stated before," Harry began. "I pride myself on being able to tell how Dr Alexander is feeling and I was sure that she was afraid. I also know that the time he cracked her rib was because he found out she had spent time at my flat without telling him." Harry wondered how bad it would have been if he ever found out what she was doing whilst she was there.

"Can you explain to the court the hospital admissions sheet please Dr Cunningham," Giles requested.

It was the final page in the gruesome handout the jury had been given.

"Err, yes it is an admissions form for Dr Alexander who was taken in to Bart's Hospital in the early hours of April 14th. Her symptoms included nausea, pain, periods of unconsciousness and haemorrhaging." Harry read from the paper Giles had handed him.

"And how exactly do you have a copy of this hospital form?"

"Because I was the one that took her to the hospital," Harry added.

"Did the hospital know what had caused Dr Alexander's injuries?"

"They did, it was blunt force trauma to the abdomen resulting in a miscarriage." Harry said without even trying to disguise his loathing of the defendant.

"And it is your testimony here that all these injuries that Dr Alexander experienced in the last six months were as a result of her being regularly assaulted by Andrew Moorcroft."

"Yes it is," Harry concluded.

He really wished he could sit down.

"We will take a short break," Judge Evans announced.

Harry didn't relish the prospect of his filing cupboard again, but it was better than being left here and it did have a chair even if it was bolted to the ground. He needed to prepare himself before Ravi Singh sank his teeth into him during the cross examination from the defence.


	11. Chapter 11

It seemed strange to be back in a room where he could view the outside world again. The clouds had not cleared and the May afternoon looked as if it were trying to go dark, despite only being two-thirty, it should be summer not an everlasting winter.

Harry was uneasy. He knew the reputation of Murchison, Bailey and Singh; he'd heard most of it from Drew, their ruthlessness, their tricks and questions purposely meant to intimidate the witness. Harry remembered about a training afternoon Drew had told them about. It had been led by Ravi Singh; he had explained how far you could go with the intimidation before the judge was likely to step in and shut a barrister down. And that's who Harry had to face now. It didn't matter that he had the truth on his side, he knew very well in matters like these the truth wasn't always enough.

He thought back to that night at the hospital. He'd hardly seen Nikki for weeks, other than at work where she had been quiet to the point of mute and gone about her work by herself. Whereas before they would look in on each other's cases, offer advice, provide a second set of eyes to a problem, now Nikki just did her work and hurried back to Drew. He couldn't understand it. He'd even spoken to his mother about it, about his fears about his lack of understanding about why she stayed. His mother had been silent for a while and then said thoughtfully.

"Harry sweetheart, often when the lows appear so very low, it usually means that the highs are very high. Does he make her happy?"

"But but…" he remembered stuttering.

"I know Harry, it's her life after all and if she is happy she will need to make that decision herself. You can only be there to be her friend, you can't be her saviour if she doesn't want saving."

There was no answer to that. No answer until the night she came and knocked on his door. The night she decided to leave Drew, the night he was terrified that she might die and the night he was nearly arrested. He'd had such a hard time that night convincing the police that he had only called the ambulance and taken Nikki to the hospital; that he was not responsible for her injuries but they really didn't believe him. Would the jury see the truth?

He'd been startled that night by the knock on the door. It was so quiet he thought he had imagined it. It reminded him of happier times when they could see each other whenever they wanted before his stupid stupid... he couldn't even describe it. But the knock came again, and he knew at once who it would be and that his moment had come.

"Nikki," he'd said taking time to take in the scene. She wasn't crying, not yet; she had her fierce, self-composed look on. The one where her mind was made up and nothing would prevail to change it. She looked tired though, thinner too, fragile even and that was not the Nikki that Harry was used to. Even when she was in trouble she was indomitable, but Drew had sucked her independent spirit from her, with his bullying and his mind games and left her imprisoned in fear.

"Are you coming in?" he asked. Aware that crossing the threshold into his flat was making a very definite statement. An ending. A beginning. A call for help. A place of no return. A place to restart.

"Oh Harry," she had said and stepped forward and into his embrace. He was careful with his hugs now after he'd unintentionally hurt her that time, not realising the extent of the bruising she always tried to disguise. So he waited to feel how tightly she held on to him and responded in kind.

"You don't have to say anything," he whispered in her ear, kissing her hair as he did so.

"Do I need to get the camera?" he asked shyly.

"There'll be plenty of time for that later," she replied. "I'm not going anywhere," he felt her body heave in a noiseless sob and he hugged her again.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked later, as he felt her begin to relax, no that wasn't the right word, cease trembling would be more precise, and she began to process the enormity of the decision she had made.

"I shouldn't really," she had replied, and at the time he hadn't thought it strange.

"I do have other stuff you know, tea, coffee, tonic?"

"Actually Harry, a small glass of wine would be really nice."

He had fetched them both a drink and sat next to her on the sofa, she sipped her drink slowly.

"You know why I'm here?" she had asked.

Harry nodded.

She looked at him hard demanding he state an answer; unsure after all the silence between them whether their old wordless language was still operational.

"He's hurt you for the last time," Harry declared.

Nikki sighed, he hadn't said 'you've left him,' he hadn't said 'about time to,' or made some unsuitable reference like he had on those times before. For once he had said just the right thing. The realisation of the truth of this suddenly freed her from the months of fear and hiding and self-deception.

"Thank you," she had said.

"Now I was just about to watch Transporter 3, would you care to join me Dr Alexander?" Harry asked, waving the telly guns under her nose, "or are we talking?"

"Do things get blown up?"

"Yes,"

"Is there fighting?"

"Lots,"

"With gratuitous semi-nudity?"

"Yep, have you seen this before without me?"

"Are there car chases?"

"Do I really need to answer that one?"

"Sounds perfect I don't want to talk," Nikki had said and snuggled into his shoulder.

Predictably she was asleep half hour into the film, she fell further and further across him. For a while he enjoyed the feel of her next to him, her warmth, her presence. He could close his eyes and imagine that it had all gone differently that time before, that time when they had their chance and he had thrown it away.

But after a while she just became a dead weight, digging into his legs, he decided he would have to move her and he couldn't do it from the position he was in without waking her up.

"Nikki," he called quietly, not wanting to scare her, not wanting her to have forgotten where she was and who she was with.

But there was no response.

"Nikki," he called louder this time.

He looked down into her sleeping face and noticed for the first time how pale she was. She was always pale, but this was unnaturally pale.

"Nikki," he called again giving her a little shake this time, but her head just dropped backwards as he tried to move her.

"Nikki!" he shouted this time, rolling her unceremoniously off him and into the back of the couch so he could wriggle free. He scooped his arms under her shoulders and legs to pick her up and carry her to the bedroom where the light was better and he could see what was going on, but as he slipped his arm under her thighs, he became suddenly aware of a wet sticky feeling against his skin. He dumped her back down on the sofa, still unresponsive, ran to turn on all the lights and grab the phone, his stomach churning, repulsed and horrified by the streak of red blood that had seeped into his shirt sleeve.

She'd regained consciousness in the ambulance, after the paramedics had applied an oxygen mask, and Harry asked as many questions as he could before she drifted away again.

He'd hit her.

Andrew Moorcroft

In the stomach.

With one of his enormously thick legal books.

When the first strike didn't achieve his desired reaction, he'd hit her again, using the book like a baseball bat.

Then she had walked out the door.

"But Nikki, you're bleeding," Harry had added.

She didn't reply but he knew she had heard him. He saw her squeeze her eyes shut tight momentarily and when she opened them again he saw a new level of sadness in there.

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><p><strong>I really am sorry to be so utterly depressing in this season of merriment and goodwill so will endeavour to put more up tomorrow so we are not left in such a dreadful place for Christmas. Reviews are always appreciated and apologies if I've upset you with this, feel free to PM and I'll let you know when it's safe to start reading again.<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

**Hope you're still with me; it does cheer up eventually…promise! (nasties warning for this one, jump about half way down page)**

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><p>His mistake in retrospect had been to tell the hospital he was her partner. One of the admissions doctors had asked him if he were her husband as they were hurriedly transferring her to a cubicle. He'd answered partner almost without thinking. If he'd said friend, or colleague he would have been sent out to the waiting area, and after finally getting her back he couldn't face exile again.<p>

A nurse had even offered him her condolences.

He hadn't the heart to tell her the foetus wasn't his.

There was a lot of blood.

Harry had attended plenty of serious incidents but there was something intrinsically different when it was someone that you loved's blood leaking all over the bed. It was more precious, more affecting, he willed it to stop with every fibre of his being.

It took three transfusions to stabilise her. He'd held her hand throughout.

Until the curtain was pulled back and a police officer stepped in.

The doctor had obviously called the police, the circumstance were obviously suspicious. Harry was sure he had told them that her boyfriend had hit her with a book. Maybe they assumed he was so messed up he talked about himself in the third person.

"Could we go somewhere and talk please sir," the police officer had said.

After what seemed like hours he had convinced the police officer to call Leo, to establish that Harry was a colleague and not Nikki's boyfriend or the perpetrator of the crime.

When it was finally concluded and the police officer reluctantly agreed that Harry could stay with Nikki and wouldn't have to be taken in for further questioning it occurred to him how serious it had all become. Not that the violence and abuse weren't serious enough before, he wouldn't belittle that at all. But the police officer had talked about the use of a weapon, not actual bodily harm, grievous bodily harm, battery, even child destruction. These were all serious crimes and not one that would go away with a few hours of community service and a counselling course. This was custodial stuff.

"Harry," she had smiled as he had sat down next to her and taken her hand again.

"I wondered where you'd gone?" she said.

"I'm here Nikki, I just had to go and sort some things out, talk to Leo, you know but I'm back now, ok." He said reassuringly.

Nikki cast her eyes to the assorted drips and bottles suspended above her, a tear forming in her eye.

"I'm really sorry Nikki, but you're going to be alright now," he kissed her hand. "Why don't you get some rest? I'll be right here."

"What if, what if…" Nikki began hesitantly.

"He won't come near you ever again," Harry stated. He'd make her take out a restraining order, if the police hadn't already got him in custody. He had enjoyed telling them Drew's address and details. He was determined he would never hurt again.

Harry watched as another wave of sadness crossed her face that he couldn't understand at all. Even after all this. How could she still love him, want him, miss him? He was hurting her still and Harry was powerless to stop it.

"Dr Cunningham, it's time to go back in," the Court usher called.

"I was told to give you this, but I have no idea why" he continued as he led Harry back along the corridor towards the courtroom.

"Who gave you this?" Harry asked.

"Your barrister but it's not his, it looks like it's been stepped on too, it's almost impossible to read the number."

In Harry's hand was a business card. It didn't matter that the front was almost worn away. It was his own business card and he recognised it instantly. This one was sellotaped across the middle, with evidence of a shoe print and some bits missing from around the edge. It had been months ago he thought, months ago when he had sneaked it into her hand. He'd not had anything else to write on and he knew Drew was watching them. It was before anyone else had suspected, after that first time he had undressed her in the locker room, and gently rubbed cream into those angry bruises. He flicked the card over in his hand; already knowing the words written there.

"Don't believe his lies.

You do not deserve this.

I love you."


	13. Chapter 13

It seemed that there were more people in the gallery when he returned. He could see Leo give him a brief smile as he went past. The crowd was obviously in for the show, Murchison, Bailey and Singh were notorious. It felt like being led out into the Coliseum to face the lions. It was such a clear cut case in his mind. He knew the facts; they had been blindingly obvious to him from the moment that first bunch of flowers had turned up and she had reacted so indifferently and winced at that hug. How could he get the jury to see that without sounding like a deranged stalker?

"Mr Singh, your witness," Judge Evans began after everyone had retaken their seats after her entrance.

"Thank you."

"Dr Cunningham in your evidence here today, you have claimed that my client Andrew Moorcroft repeatedly attacked and injured Dr Alexander, yet you have not provided any evidence that this was indeed the case. You have provided the court with a collection of photographs that show injuries to Dr Alexander but you have no proof as to who inflicted those injuries on her, or whether any were accidental. Furthermore, you have stated that you were in love with Dr Alexander giving you every motive to try and sabotage her relationship. I put it to you that you were jealous of Andrew Moorcroft and that you were acting in your own interests."

Harry stared at the barrister, he'd come out from behind his desk, but hadn't actually asked Harry a question yet, so he just let him carry on.

"The defence has a number of questions as to how you came to have this evidence, and whether you are responsible for hurting Dr Alexander. It is already your own testimony to this court earlier today that you have hurt her. You were also with Dr Alexander at the time the acts of violence occurred and I put it to the jury that Dr Cunningham could have caused the injuries himself. Why should anyone believe what you say Dr Cunningham?"

"Because at the start of the day, I promised to tell the truth and that is what I have done."

"So the truth is that you hurt Dr Alexander?"

"The truth is that as a friend I felt I let her down, and that was hurtful," Harry stated simply.

"Dr Cunningham, my learned friend here claimed that you treated some of Dr Alexander's injuries at work, but he didn't really explain the circumstances accurately did he?"

"Are you accusing my barrister of lying?" Harry asked.

"I ask the questions here, Dr Cunningham," Singh replied vehemently. " You said," he flamboyantly picked up his notes:

"I took her by the hand and led her to the locker rooms, I closed the door,

took the first aid box off the wall, removed her blouse and palpated her

ribs to see if any were broken. I applied arnica cream to help with

the bruising and I replaced her blouse."

"Why did you take her hand Dr Cunningham?"

"It's not an odd thing for us to do, she was upset, I didn't want to alert anyone else in the office to the problem," Harry replied.

"So you led her against her will to the locker room?"

"I did not drag her across the office floor if that's what you're implying."

"Was she eager to go with you?" Singh probed.

"No," Harry replied truthfully.

"And when you reached the locker rooms you forcefully imprisoned her there." Singh stated.

"I locked the door to give her some privacy, it is a public area," Harry explained.

"But you can see how it looks; that you held her there against her will?"

"No, I can't," Harry said beginning to get defensive. "I locked the door so that no one would come in and make what was obviously a very awkward situation even worse."

"What exactly was Dr Alexander doing as you removed her blouse?"

"She was sat on the bench," Harry said evasively.

Singh had obviously been prepped on exactly what had gone on somehow, and he picked up immediately on Harry's defensiveness.

"Anything else?" Singh demanded.

"She was crying," Harry stated.

"So in this innocent relationship that you have, you have coerced her to a more private area of your workspace, held her against her will, removed her clothes and touched her inappropriately whilst she cried throughout," Singh explained.

Harry looked up at the jury, many had their heads down scribbling notes for later.

"I did not touch her inappropriately, I'm a doctor, I was treating her, she was crying because that man over there had hurt her and she was humiliated. Not because I was rubbing arnica on a bruise," Harry clarified.

"Isn't it slightly odd that she let you treat her?" Singh enquired.

"Not particularly, she has stitched up several of my minor injuries in the past and I have returned the favour more than once. It's more convenient than a couple of hours at A we have the equipment and the knowledge, why not use it?" Harry asked.

"As I said before Dr Cunningham; I ask the questions."

"So are you often injured in the line of your work?" Singh asked.

"There have been occasions," Harry replied.

"Has Dr Alexander ever been hurt?" Singh queried.

"Yes she has," Harry replied again, thinking of another time he had rushed her to hospital watching the blood flow unhindered from her pale body. He hated thinking about her like that, not because she was in pain, but because it gave him a glimpse, a glimpse of how bereft he would be had she died and that only magnified the enormity of his stupidity with that awful woman he slept with after they got back from Hungary. He had heard Nikki gasp in pain, and cry over her injuries and her loss but there was never anything as chilling as that cry at the Memorial.

"Isn't it likely that Dr Alexander's injuries could have occurred in the line of her work?" Singh inquired.

"Not very likely," Harry answered. "We have to keep records of any accidents at work, and that includes assaults, so if any of Dr Alexander's injuries happened while she was at work, they would be written up in the accident book."

Singh decided to change tack.

You also stated earlier that a reason for your concern about Dr Alexander's relationship, with my client was that she stopped spending time with other people and spent more time with her boyfriend. That doesn't seem strange does it?"

"No, not in normal circumstances," Harry admitted.

"So why did it bother you so much in this instance? I put it to you that it was because you were jealous and angry that your friendship with Dr Alexander was being threatened."

"I stated earlier that I was happy about Dr Alexander's relationship, at the beginning, that I also liked Andrew Moorcroft. I found him genial, good company and he took Nikki seriously, they went on exciting dates and away for weekends, and he treated her with the respect she deserved. I had no reason at first for disliking him." Harry rationalised.

"But you didn't like her other boyfriends before?" Singh questioned.

"No I did not."

"And that was because?"

"Because they weren't serious, they didn't treat her in the way she deserved, Dr Alexander didn't like them much either."

"She liked Andrew Moorcroft?"

"Yes she did, I believe she was," he paused, "she is in love with him."

"She was happy?"

"At the beginning, yes she was." Harry said clearly.

"So her happiness did not send you into a jealous rage?"

"Do you have a sister?" Harry asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Singh replied suddenly caught off guard.

"I said: Do you have a sister? Do you enjoy seeing her happy? Don't you desire good things for her, things that will give her a fulfilling and happy life?"

"I ask the questions here!" Singh thundered. "Dr Alexander is NOT your sister; she is a woman that you stated you flirted with and led her to believe you were interested in a romantic relationship with."

"That was a long time ago," Harry said wistfully. "She was happy with Andrew Moorcroft; I wanted her to stay happy. She did not and it is as a consequence of that man's abuse."

"But you still haven't given the court any evidence that it was my client and not you that inflicted those injuries?"

"What?" Harry asked, his passion rising. "You are prepared to tell them," he waved at the jury, "that I was so jealous of my colleague's relationship, that after eight years of being together as friends and colleagues, the best strategy I could come up with to win her love was to start beating her up and blaming it on her boyfriend?"

"You are to answer questions Dr Cunningham and not ask questions, you have been warned already," the judge interrupted.

"The police didn't believe you, did they when you took her to the hospital?" Singh asked wheedling in trying to get under Harry's skin now he had got him riled.

"You had just as much opportunity and motive to have caused the blow that precipitated Dr Alexander's miscarriage as my client. The weapon was never found, I'm sure pathology books are just as big and heavy as legal ones." Singh was almost sneering now.

Harry shook his head sadly. "I have no hard evidence. The pattern of bruising throughout the incidents was clustered on the left hand side of her body, making it more likely to have come from a right handed attacker, for example Andrew Moorcroft; I am left handed. Dr Alexander was supposed to be in a loving relationship. If that were true, why would she come to my door in the middle of the night asking for my help, if I were the one hurting her?"

"You are to answer the questions, and just the questions Dr Cunningham. I will not tell you again," Judge Evans thundered.

"Did she ask you for help that night?" Singh asked.

"Not directly," Harry said thinking back to the conversation he had recalled earlier.

"Did she ask for help or not Dr Cunningham, this court will not tolerate your evasiveness."

"No she did not. I asked her…"

"That will be all," Singh interrupted. "No further questions."

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><p><strong>Happy Christmas one and all, nothing more until Tuesday I don't suppose but don't worry there is more to come… Having indulged me the other day with my religious quotes I'll leave you with the King today; well Elvis, words &amp; music by Stanley J. Gelber)<strong>

_**Give thanks for all you've been blessed with**_

_**And hold your loved ones tight**_

_**For you know the Lord's been good to you**_

_**On a snowy Christmas night**_


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry I've left Harry sweating there for so long, I'm still here, and this is still here but might be a bit more erratic than I hoped. Thanks for the kind reviews.**

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><p>"The witness may step down," Judge Evans declared.<p>

Harry walked back to a seat in the gallery, and relished the respite of sitting down. He was not near Leo or Nikki and for that he was thankful. He needed a moment to think; to think through all that had been said. He looked up at the jury to try and gauge their reaction. Surely they would believe him? The alternative was too preposterous. And a couple of bruises could be accidental, hadn't they gone bike riding? that was a sure fire way to accrue all sorts of vicious bruises he recalled from his med school days but it wouldn't explain a burn to the shoulder after being held against a heated towel rail. When in anybody's imagination was that an accident?

He had to calm down. Focus on the next part of the proceedings. The doctor that treated Nikki at Bart's had agreed to testify too. If only they had been able to track down Moorcroft's ex-wife, he was sure she would have something to say on the matter. The fact that she was untraceable and Moorcroft had been denied access to their daughter since the divorce did speak volumes but with no way to find her the jury would have to make do with believing Harry. But would it be enough?

Harry found that he had the business card in his hand that the usher had given him. Nikki must have handed it to Giles, he was surprised she still had it, it had obviously been ripped out of her hand and stamped on, he was impressed that she had taped it back together and kept hold of it. A tiny flicker of hope sparked in his brain. He didn't know what to expect for the two of them, didn't even really know what he wanted but the thought that she had taken the trouble to find the pieces of this card and fix it back together again, and then keep it safe made him optimistic. She had given it back to him, just when he needed it, all that stuff about her crying as he had taken her shirt off and looked at her, she wasn't crying because of anything he had done, she was crying because she was ashamed that she had been beaten.

Harry checked his watch, it was nearly four; everything would be stopping soon. He hated being here, but the idea of going home, without this completed, that there would be more tomorrow filled him with despair. What was he supposed to do tonight? Sit down and eat his dinner, as if everything were normal? He had a strong stomach, it was essential in his line of work, but even his stomach would rebel at that.

The noise from the courtroom continued but Harry was too exhausted to follow what was going on until suddenly heard the sound of chairs scraping and everyone getting to their feet as Judge Evans retired. People started milling past him, eager to get home, get on with the day. Harry just felt stuck.

After Nikki had been released from hospital she'd kept herself to herself for a while. Harry saw her at work, and they talked more easily than they had for a while, but she was not in the mood for jokes, or pranks or silly little fights. She was sad, lonely, confused. He knew Leo had taken her along to a victim support group a couple of times. Leo was a great advocate for them, having found comfort there himself when his wife and Cassie had died. But beyond that Harry knew very little.

He was just dragging himself up out of his seat when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"How are you?" Leo asked.

"Exhausted," Harry confessed, running his hands through his hair.

"Come on, you're coming home with me. I need to make sure you eat something tonight. Did you even have lunch?"

"Err no," Harry laughed nervously. "Thinking back I'm not sure I had breakfast either."

"Well that settles it then," Leo declared. "I'll bring you back in the morning."

"Thanks Leo," Harry smiled. "I'm not sure I'll have much of an appetite."

"That's not a problem," Leo replied, he watched him looking around the nearly empty room.

"Her police liaison officer took her home," Leo said answering Harry's unstated question.

"We are doing the right thing aren't we?" asked Harry.

"Harry! He's a monster." Leo scoffed.

"I know, I know but she really does love him still," Harry said sadly.

"Cream cakes," Leo said.

"I beg your pardon?" Harry said, wondering if he had actually heard what Leo had said. He certainly wasn't in the mood for cream cakes.

"Cream cakes," Leo repeated, putting his arm around Harry's shoulder and leading him out of the courtroom.

"You'll have to explain it to me." Harry said shaking his head.

"Cream cakes," Leo said a third time, "Just because you want something doesn't mean it's good for you. Sometimes you just have to manage without."

'Cream cakes' thought Harry, Andrew Moorcroft was more like crack cocaine than a cream cake, but the analogy held true, whatever he was he would destroy her.


	15. Chapter 15

Harry didn't stay at Leo's. He'd managed to stay civil throughout the meal, but the prospect of a sleepless night in an unfamiliar house terrified him. If he was going to be up all night, he at least could pace up and down in his own living room and not worry about disturbing people and if he decided to watch TV at three in the morning he could.

Leo had tried to insist he stayed, but it was clear to both men that they would each be happier in their own separate houses.

"It is going to be alright, Harry," Leo had assured him, as he walked up the path to the waiting minicab.

"Whatever happens, it will never be the same again," Harry said sadly.

"Sometimes change is good," called Leo, but he doubted Harry had heard.

Harry composed Nikki a text as he was driven through town and back to his flat. He thanked her for the card, he tried to say sorry for the things he had said today, but it was impossible to put what he wanted to say into a text and after a while he gave up. As far as he knew Giles wasn't planning on calling her as a witness. If he did it would give Singh and opportunity to lay into her, but if he didn't they took the gamble that Harry was a more credible witness than Moorcroft. Moorcroft was definitely first up tomorrow. Harry wondered what lies he had carefully constructed in the weeks leading up to the trial to worm his way out of a guilty verdict.

It made Harry sick just thinking about it. He wasn't sure he would be able to sit through the testimony without throwing up, or secretly taking notes. Why members of the gallery were not allowed to take notes was beyond him, but in both instances he would get himself ejected from the courtroom and neither would be favourable to the case. He still wasn't sure if Giles was actually speaking to him after the afternoon's cross examination. He was hoping Giles was just too busy preparing the right questions for Moorcroft.

His phone rang as he climbed the stairs up to his kitchen.

It was Nikki.

"Hi, Nikki, how are you?" Harry asked with overly forced brightness.

"Cut the crap Harry," had been the terse reply.

"Erm, you rang me," Harry said.

"I… I … I just wanted to say thanks, thanks for helping me. I'm sorry you had to go through that today," she said more quietly.

"That's ok, you know I'd do anything for you," he blustered not wanting to be drawn into a serious conversation, not tonight when he was so drained, so exhausted so he kept his voice light and playful. "Well that's not quite true you know, because I never did fix that tap for you did I?"

"You're an idiot!" she said but gave a small chuckle.

"It was good to hear you Nikki," Harry said, desperate to be off the phone and just some place silent. He knew his words of earlier wouldn't have gone unnoticed, not by her anyway.

"Are you alright?" Nikki asked the concern evident in her voice.

"Truthfully?" he said and paused.

She didn't reply; he didn't know whether that meant a yes or a no. He'd promised to tell the truth at the start of the day and it wasn't quite midnight yet.

"Truthfully Nikki, I'm exhausted, I'm worried about you, I'm worried about me, I'm worried that I'm not likely to sleep again tonight, I'm worried that we all have to go back and do this all again tomorrow, I'm worried that he won't be convicted and I'm worried that this will never end," he let out a long sigh at the end of his speech.

"Harry?" she said quietly. "I won't ever go back to him, I have made my decision and I won't do it."

"I know you won't," Harry said kindly. "But it won't stop you loving him," he added.

He heard a crackle on the phone that he took to be her sniffing. Fabulous, making her cry was on his conscience for the evening again. Now he really didn't know what to say. How was being in the witness stand of a crown court easier than this? He was saved when Nikki spoke again.

"Harry? What you said?" Nikki began.

'Please no,' Harry begged inwardly. He couldn't do this now.

"Yes," he answered cautiously.

There was another pause.

"Thank you…" she began hesitantly.

"You can't thank me Nikki; it's meaningless if nothing's done about it." It was clear to him that saying he loved her was useless when put up against weekends in historic cities, and more gifts than Harry could ever afford.

"But you've done so much," she insisted and then realised that that could be misinterpreted.

Harry was leaning his head against the wall of the kitchen; his eyes closed willing the call, the day, everything to be over.

"Why did you do it?" she asked quietly, it could have referred to anything but they both knew the incident that she was referring to.

"I'm not going to give you an excuse Nikki, I'm sure you've heard plenty of excuses recently. I was stupid? I was drunk? My ego was bruised? I was still in shock? I wanted to prove I still had it? I don't know Nikki. I've asked myself why daily for the last six months. I was afraid, most of all I think," Harry explained.

"Afraid of what?" she asked.

"Of not being good enough for you, of not being who you really want," he said sadly.

"Oh," she replied and then added after a pause, "Will you try to get some sleep?"

Harry laughed and shook his head, despite the fact she couldn't see him.

"I'll try," he promised.

"I like feeling that I am part of your family," she said as an afterthought, thinking back to his testimony that day.

"You do remember how dysfunctional my family is?" he joked. There were so many possible ways he could have answered her, drawn her closer, pushed her away; joking was his way to avoid any changes in their relationship, maintain the status quo. He couldn't cope with anymore, not tonight, not today.

But change was inevitable, even Leo had said it and change had already happened but would it ever be the change that Harry really wanted?

"Good night Harry,"

"Good night Nikki."

He slipped his phone back in his pocket and went through to his bedroom.

It rang almost immediately.

"Yes," he answered tersely.

"Hello sweetheart, it's me," his mother said.

"Oh Mum, sorry I didn't realise it was you," he said and lay down fully clothed on his bed.

"I was just ringing to see how you were, how you got on?" she asked.

"Am I doing the right thing?" he pleaded.

"Oh, not good then…Yes you are Harry, however much this hurts you both; you are doing the right thing. You've just got to keep going, just a little bit longer now," she said.

Harry just sighed.

"I'll call you tomorrow,"

"Thanks mum, sorry."

"That's alright, try and get some rest, good night love," she said.

"Night, mum."

He tossed the phone down on the bed and closed his eyes momentarily he was sure he wouldn't find sleep tonight. But just as suddenly it seemed he woke to sunlight, and the uncomfortable feeling of sleeping in his clothes, he still had his shoes on! He stripped off and headed for the shower.

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><p><strong>So Moorcroft's up on the stand next…any guesses? or am I better off leaving you with naked Harry for a while?<strong>


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks again, all will be revealed soon ;)**

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><p>Leo wasn't in court, Harry noted. Giles had managed to perk his wig up for today, and seemed to be sweating less, despite the fact that the sun had finally remembered it was late spring, and the court room was already hot. Nikki was sat in the row in front of him but eight people to his right. It was better without having her in his direct line of sight, but she was close enough for him to read her body language. He was hoping to be able to remain objective, to try and detach the words and actions from his friend and think of them as actions in isolation. He wasn't sure it would work, but it was worth a try.<p>

Moorcroft was in another designer suit, with a subtle but obviously classy and expensive tie. He looked calm; he looked in control and the very model of respectability. Even the way he walked to the witness box oozed charm and sophistication. Harry saw the way Nikki watched him. He saw her sit up straight, and pull at her fingers.

"It has been reported to this court that on occasions since January 4th 2011, you have been abusive to Dr Nicola Alexander who at the time was your girlfriend. Photographs and hospital reports have shown evidence of Dr Alexander's injuries, bruises, lacerations, a burn, blunt force trauma. It has been Dr Cunningham's testimony; Dr Alexander's colleague and friend that the injuries were caused by you. Perhaps for the benefit of the jury you could assist us as we look through the file of evidence photographs, to explain how the injuries occurred. You were her boyfriend after all and would have an interest in your girlfriend's well-being," Giles Chisholm began, his voice light but stern.

There was a lot of fumbling from the jury as they all picked up their folders and turned to the first page. Moorcroft did not appear ruffled at all.

"January 4th, the evidence shows bruising to the wrist, the bruises in a pattern consistent with being held tightly, with separate fingers clearly demarcated."

"Why do you find that unusual?" Moorcroft answered.

Giles did a double take, sucked in more air and asked; "Can you explain those bruises to the court please,"

"Dr Alexander and I had a passionate sexual relationship, we were experimental, maybe we got a bit carried away." Moorcroft stated so matter of factly as if this were a commonplace occurrence.

"And the gift that Dr Alexander received afterwards?"

"I like to be generous. I love buying gifts. I was in love with her. I wanted her to know how special she made me feel. I wanted her to feel special."

Harry swallowed and began to dig his left thumb nail into the palm of his right hand to distract him from the Moorcroft's words.

"January 12th, this time there are bruises to the upper arms, again the pattern shows fingers pressed hard into the skin, it is Dr Cunningham's testimony that these were in the wrong position to have occurred during intercourse."

"Then maybe Dr Cunningham should broaden his horizons." Moorcroft replied brazenly.

"You do not deny inflicting these bruises on Dr Alexander?" Giles asked outright.

"No,"

"January 18th bruising to the area around the kidney and lower ribs," Giles stated.

"She fell against the back of a chair," Moorcroft said simply.

"I'm not an expert," began Giles but that looks like more of an impact than just falling into a dining room chair."

"It depends on what you're doing when you fall against the dining chair," Moorcroft responded insolently.

Harry rubbed his hand, he hadn't drawn blood yet, but if this carried on it wouldn't be long.

Giles flicked through the folder, he knew he wouldn't beat Moorcroft at this game, so he had to go for something else.

"This one," Giles said triumphantly opening the folder at the page depicting a burn to the back of Nikki's left arm, and slamming it on the stand in front of Moorcroft.

"This was caused by someone holding Dr Alexander's arm against a towel rail long enough to cause second degree burns. This was no heat of the moment accident!"

"I have no recollection of any such incident," Moorcroft stated and then added, "have you asked Dr Alexander about it?"

"You know very well that victims in domestic abuse cases are not required to testify if there is enough evidence to secure a conviction."

"Then you had better prove it was abuse and not consensual adults."

Giles flicked through the folder to the last page.

"Andrew Moorcroft it is your testimony then, that hitting your girlfriend repeatedly with a heavy book, so hard it caused internal bleeding, severe bruising and precipitated a miscarriage of presumably your own child is the regular activity of consenting adults? Did you ask Dr Alexander if she minded whether you hit her? How did you determine whether this was consensual or not?" Giles shook the report under Moorcroft's nose.

"Counsel," warned Judge Evans.

"Dr Alexander left my flat that night, perfectly well. She was taken ill at Dr Cunningham's house," Moorcroft stated.

"What would Dr Cunningham's motive be for harming Dr Alexander?" Giles asked.

"As you said, it was my child. Dr Cunningham is known for his quick temper."

"But Dr Cunningham didn't even know she was pregnant." Giles said.

Andrew Moorcroft just looked smugly on.

"Do you have a temper?" Giles asked him.

"Me?" Moorcroft did his best to look affronted. "No, one has ever commented on it before, I'm a passionate man as I've already said, but I wouldn't say I had a temper."

Harry changed from stabbing his hand to pinching tiny amounts of skin through his shirt, the pain was immensely comforting.

"No more questions, your honour." Giles concluded.


	17. Chapter 17

Ravi Singh, stood in his place, and lifted up some note cards. He made a point of looking through them and ostentatiously putting them down on the desk. He could feel Judge Evans glaring at him, so cut short his charade.

"It seems my learned friend, has already asked the witness many of my questions," he began.

"Could you describe how you met Dr Alexander for the court please?" Singh asked Moorcroft.

"We met in a court room, Dr Alexander was my key witness in a trial, her evidence helped secure a conviction of a dangerous individual. We went for drinks after the trial, I would have begged her for her number, she was the most amazing woman I had met for a long time, but I already had her number. We had drinks a couple more times; she was perfect for me and then we started dating properly." Moorcroft explained.

"When was that?" Singh interjected.

"Late September," Moorcroft replied.

"And when did you meet her colleagues?" Singh asked.

"Near the end of October, I didn't know the details but I knew that Nikki, sorry Dr Alexander was working on a difficult case, with both her colleagues and had spent hours of overtime on it. Not paid of course they were just so dedicated to finding the truth, it was one of the things I really loved about her, her unwavering loyalty and commitment. Finally they made a breakthrough and she texted me she was so excited. I invited them all out to celebrate; we had drinks at a cocktail place not far from her office. Moorcroft explained.

"Can you describe your first meeting with Dr Cunningham please?"

"He seemed quiet, intense, they had all obviously had a difficult week, and it didn't look as if he'd slept for a while. I remember he went to the bar to get a round and just as he turned round with the tray of drinks, some young woman tripped over and crashed into him. He managed to save most of the drinks but not without spilling some down his shirt. I was shocked by how he looked at the woman. It was only an accident after all."

"How did Dr Cunningham look?" Singh probed.

"He was furious," Moorcroft admitted.

Harry rubbed his hand across his chin. He'd made sure he'd shaved the last two days, in a bid to maintain a look of utmost respectability; it was odd that the usual rasping noise and abrasive feeling on his hand was absent. He'd forgotten all about that night at the bar. He'd been exhausted but he had tried so hard to be pleasant for Nikki's sake and he'd thought he'd succeeded. He hadn't been livid about spilling drinks down his shirt; it was an occupational hazard of going to the pub with Nikki. It wasn't that, that Moorcroft had seen, he'd been in pain; that woman had put her spike heel down right into his little toe but there would be no chance to tell his side of that story now.

Singh decided this was as good a place to finish as any other, and closed his questions. Moorcroft was led back to the defendant's table and Judge Evans asked if there were any more witnesses the prosecution would like to call.

Giles looked startled for a while and answered in the affirmative.

Judge Evans checked her watch and decided to call for lunch to be taken slightly early and to reconvene at 1:30.

Everyone rose from their seats as she left. Harry looked across the chairs to Nikki. He had a sinking feeling he knew who Chisholm wanted on the stand after lunch.

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><p><strong>Happy New Year to you all<strong>


	18. Chapter 18

**Sorry for leaving you all like that, should be back now and reasonably regular 'til the end and hopefully should be a bit more cheery soon. Thanks to all who've been reading and especially tigpop, Charlotte88, pinkswallowsun (and her mum) and hopelesslyhalfhearted, my lovely reviewers, Harry hugs to you all.**

* * *

><p>Harry burst into Giles' chambers. "You are not putting Nikki on the stand, you promised me that we wouldn't have to do that!" he shouted.<p>

"Calm down Harry. That was before your opening statement to the defence was about you hurting the victim!" Giles shot back.

"Excuse me, I am here you know!" came Nikki's indignant voice from the edge of the room.

"Nikki, I'm sorry I didn't see you there," Harry apologised.

"Do you want this man convicted or not?" Chisholm challenged Harry. "Because from where I was sitting he was the one looking cool and calm and objective and you were the one getting emotional and defensive. It's not looking good Harry. If we go to closing statements now I'll have to sum up with 'you have to convict Moorcroft because Dr Cunningham says he did it.' I usually like to have a bit more evidence to make it sound convincing."

"You're being childish now," Harry moaned. "You've got a lot more than that. You have confessions from Moorcroft that he made those bruises on her arms…"

"Yes but he says she agreed to whatever it was they were doing," Giles interjected, wildly pointing a finger in Nikki's direction.

Nikki stalked across the room her heels clicking on the solid wood floor suddenly reminding them both of her presence.

"I'll testify," she said.

Harry shot her a murderous look.

"I'll do what I want," Nikki declared. "If this whole sordid episode has taught me anything it is not to let other people make my decisions for me and if I say I'll testify then I'll testify!"

"But Singh will be merciless!" Harry begged. "You don't have to do this, come on have some lunch, give it some thought; let's decide for sure in half an hour?" he cajoled.

"Harry do not try and manipulate me!" she demanded. "And how can you even think about food?"

They were both good points, he wasn't hungry in the slightest, but he knew how irritable she got when her blood sugar was low.

"I understand," Harry said quietly, "But can we please just get a coffee and think this through?"

"Do you mind?" Chisholm shot back, we will have to do closing statements today; I need time to prepare!"

"Yes I do! and that's why we're paying you the big bucks!" Harry retaliated.

"No you're not," Giles mumbled and sat down on his desk arranging his notes around him like a spider in its web.

"Come on Nikki, let's go, can we bring you anything?" Harry called back to his barrister but he waved a finger to dismiss them, he was already caught up in his preparations.

"I can do this," Nikki told Harry as she sipped her coffee, in a little independent coffee shop up the street.

"I know you can," he admitted. "You'll be better than I was, but I just didn't want you to have to," he said sadly. "I've spent the last few months worrying about you, trying to protect you and not knowing how and now it just seems as if I'm throwing you to the lions."

"You're not just scared that I'll crumble and blame it all on you?"

"Nikki!" he said aghast.

"Harry, I won't, of course I won't, I have to promise to tell the truth too you know," she replied.

"Even when it hurts?" Harry asked.

"Even then," she confirmed.

They sat in silence drinking their coffee for a while.

"It'll be ok," she said and squeezed his hand.

"But if we don't win…" Harry began.

Nikki shook her head determinedly at him. "Harry, you mustn't think like that. It's not going to happen. I will not go back to him and Drew is all about controlling his relationships. He doesn't seem to care about the ex's but I could always change my name and disappear."

"Or take out a restraining order?" suggested Harry quickly. He didn't like to dwell on how she might go about changing her name.

"That would work," she said and sipped her drink distractedly.

'Her loyalty and commitment,' that was what Moorcroft had claimed he liked about her. Harry had found the words sinister at the time but didn't know why; but now he thought about them, that was exactly it. She had been fiercely loyal to Moorcroft throughout the relationship, even after the abuse started and committed to keeping it a secret once it had. She had been perfect for him.

"Uh oh," said Nikki.

"Uh oh what?" asked Harry, "I'm not wearing the froth from this coffee am I?" he pulled a face at her and tried to lick above his top lip."

"That's better," she confirmed.

"Did I get it all?"

"There wasn't any coffee, or froth." Harry looked confused so she continued. "You just had that face on."

"What?"

"Your… your…lost face," she answered.

"I don't have a lost face," Harry assured her.

"Well it's a something face, you've had it for ages and before all this with Drew started too, almost as far back as last spr…"

She finished quickly. Would those few days in Eastern Europe ever leave them alone?

"I'm sorry, no more faces," promised Harry.

"You never wear your butterfly necklace anymore," Harry said eager to change the subject.

"Dragonfly," she corrected him and her hand went to her neck to touch the necklace she had on.

He didn't like the new one and it wasn't just because Moorcroft had bought it for her. It had a really thick, chunky chain; it didn't suit her slight build or her pale skin and instead of the dragonfly there were two interlocking circles. They weren't even hearts, just circles; they were studded with some kind of stone but looking at it now it reminded Harry of a pair of handcuffs, or set of shackles.

"No, I lost it," Nikki said sadly.

Harry looked at her quizzically; it was not like her to lose things, not precious things like that. He saw her eyes begin to water and realised he had made another mistake. By lost, Nikki was sure to have meant stolen from her and probably ripped off whilst she was still wearing it.

"Shall we go back?" he said quickly. Taking her cup and giving her a moment to recompose herself. He really didn't think she should be put up as a witness, but it was no use making a fuss, as she would only dig her heels in and insist, even if she didn't want to. Singh had accused Harry of being as manipulative as Moorcroft; he couldn't allow that to be true.

"Well if you're going out to face the lions, you'll be needing this," Harry said holding out the damaged business card.

"Harry where did you find this?" her face lit up as she took the card from him; reading the words she knew by heart:

Don't believe his lies.

You are perfect.

I love you.

"The court usher gave it to me yesterday; he said it was from Chisholm." Harry explained.

"I never gave it to him. I thought I lost it," Nikki said.

"Well, it's back where it belongs now," Harry said, and stroked her hand gently. He saw her eyes well up again for the second time in as many minutes but at least this time it was because he had done the right thing for once.


	19. Chapter 19

There was no time to check back with Giles before they entered the courtroom. Harry gave Nikki's hand a quick squeeze and they made their way separately to their places. There were fewer people in the gallery now, there was obviously a juicier trial going on in one of the other courts. Even the jury were beginning to look disinterested as they came in and took their places. Harry hoped it was because they saw through Moorcroft's immaculate presentation to the monster beneath. He suspected they were just bored.

"All rise!" came the familiar call, as Judge Evans resumed her seat.

"Mr Chisholm, I understand you wish to call another witness," she said.

"I do, your honour," Giles confirmed.

Harry fidgeted in his seat, he had never expected that that first photograph that Zak had brought to him would ever turn into a folder, and certainly not a thick folder and he had never collated them with the purpose of a court case in mind; not at first. He just wanted to make a record, so there would be nothing to dispute but as time went on and he investigated the domestic violence cases and the level of evidence needed, he began to be more thorough. After that last incident 'assault with a weapon,' everything suddenly seemed to move up a gear and suddenly he was preparing for a court case. He had done his utmost to keep Nikki from having to testify. Not keep her out of the case, without her pressing charges there would be no case at all but it just seemed wrong having to put her on the stand.

"The Prosecution would like to call Andrew Moorcroft back to the stand," Giles continued.

Nikki had already been leant forward in her seat, ready to stand and move when Giles had called out Drew's name.

Harry looked across to Nikki and back to Chisholm. 'What was he doing?' Even Singh recognised that Chisholm's last go at Moorcroft had done more for the case for the Defence.

"You are recalled to the witness stand," Judge Evans declared.

For once Moorcroft looked surprised. It was the first time in the whole trial that Harry had seen him look even slightly out of his depth.

"I will remind you that you are still under oath," Judge Evans told Moorcroft.

"I have a couple more questions for you," Giles began. "Do you like children?"

Moorcroft looked across to his colleague Ravi, his eyes wide.

"Relevance?" called Singh.

"Make it quick, Chisholm," the judge insisted.

"Do you like children Mr Moorcroft?" Giles repeated.

"I'm…indifferent, I haven't really given it much thought." Moorcroft stuttered.

"But you got your girlfriend pregnant, were you trying for a child?" Giles asked.

"Err, err yes I suppose in a way we were." Moorcroft confirmed.

"And did you and Dr Alexander talk about this decision, you hadn't been together that long to decide to have a child together had you?"

"We had been together six months," Moorcroft said, his face suddenly showing pale behind his Mediterranean complexion.

"Explain to the court, exactly how the discussion with Dr Alexander went please," Giles insisted.

"Relevance!" called Singh again.

"Mr Chisholm hurry up and make your point," Judge Evans insisted.

"Is it true, that you took Dr Alexander to Paris for the weekend, and you threw away her birth control pills and refused to use any other form of contraception?"

Moorcroft remained silent.

"Was that the full extent of your 'discussion'?" Giles probed.

"You are required to answer Mr Moorcroft," the judge insisted.

"Yes it was," Moorcroft stated simply and then added "I thought it would be romantic," but the look on his face was far from romantic.

"You were obviously keen to start a family with Dr Alexander; do you consider family to be important?" Giles queried.

Singh didn't even get as far as shouting, he just raised his head.

"Mr Chisholm, I will not ask you again, please keep the questions relevant to the case," Judge Evans declared.

"Andrew Moorcroft, did you get divorced in 2003?" Giles asked.

"I did," Moorcroft replied but he still hadn't regained any of his colour.

"How old was your daughter when the divorce was finalised?" Giles continued.

"She was nine months old," Moorcroft stated.

"Do you see her?" Giles inquired.

"No,"

"Do you have any contact with her?"

"No,"

"Do you even know her address?"

"No,"

"Have you ever even seen your daughter?"

"No,"

"Can you explain to the court why please? As a man who thinks family is important," Giles requested.

There was a moment's pause as Moorcroft obviously tried to compose an answer. Harry looked across at Nikki; he wondered if this was news to her, from the way she was sitting he could tell it was. Chisholm had obviously been given some new information over lunch.

"Her mother left me, before the child was born,"

"Did she have a particular reason for leaving you?" Giles asked.

Again Moorcroft was silent, but instead of waiting for an answer, Chisholm walked back to his bench and pulled out another stack of papers.

"Isn't it true that it is a condition of your divorce, that you never contact your daughter," Giles asked.

"She's not here to testify." Moorcroft stuttered looking around to the gallery. "This evidence is inadmissible…"

"You may continue, Mr Chisholm," Judge Evans directed.

"The details of your divorce are a matter of public record Mr Moorcroft," Giles said a slight tinge of smugness affecting his voice. "Annabel Moorcroft divorced you on grounds of unreasonable behaviour; that is also a matter for the public record; would you like to elaborate what she found so unreasonable?"

Moorcroft didn't reply.

"I wish to enter these papers as evidence; they are police records for Annabel Moorcroft, dated October 2002." The copies of the papers were dutifully passed along from hand to hand along the two rows of jury members.

"Would you like to explain to the court here, what these papers show?" Giles asked.

Moorcroft was looking positively green, his proud stance in the witness box beginning to wane.

"This report shows," declared Chisholm triumphantly "the charges that your wife filed, with the corresponding hospital report, it shows that your wife was admitted to hospital in October 2002, having suffered a heavy blow to the abdomen, a blow so hard it ruptured her spleen, this could have been fatal for both your wife and your child that she was pregnant with."

"No charges were ever brought against me," Moorcroft said hastily.

"This is heresay!" interjected Singh, "if his ex-wife is not here to testify, you cannot use this."

Is Mrs Moorcroft here to corroborate this evidence?" Judge Evans asked.

"Do police records and hospital reports really need corroborating?" Chisholm asked. He knew the answer, he knew he was treading a fine line, but even if Judge Evans shut him down, it wouldn't be before the jury had had a chance to see the hospital reports; cataloguing a shopping list of previous injuries to Annabel. Her profession was not listed as stuntman, and there was an obvious interpretation in his mind as to what or who caused her dislocated jaw, cracked ribs, broken arm and collar bone and he was standing right in front of them.

"The jury will disregard this 'evidence,'" Judge Evans pronounced, and all the papers were duly collected and passed back up the line again.

"The public record states, that Annabel Moorcroft filed for divorce on grounds of unreasonable behaviour. What exactly did she find so unreasonable?" Giles repeated.

Moorcroft remained stubbornly silent.

"You are to answer the question Mr Moorcroft," the judge demanded.

"I told you," Moorcroft answered his voice low and murderous. "No charges were ever brought against me."

"Then why did your wife find your behaviour so unreasonable?"

"I don't remember," Moorcroft responded through gritted teeth.

"Nothing further," Giles said brightly.

"Mr Singh?" the judge looked across to the Defence bench. Ravi Singh was doing well to keep his mouth closed as he listened to the revelations, but it was clear he was fuming.

"Nothing more," he stammered.

"Right, we'll move straight on to the summing up then shall we?" Judge Evans said, checking her watch. There was a chance after all that this could all be wrapped up and over by 4pm.

**There you go, everyone breathe a sigh of relief, send any 'ahs' you have to the review button below ;)**

**(updated March 2012 my mum suspected my original evidence was inadmissible so here's a bit of a tweak)**


	20. Chapter 20

**Thanks so much for all the lovely comments about the last bit, you've broken all my personal records so I'm thrilled, and given me lots of things to tweak into the end. Thanks especially to Ann1119.**

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><p>Giles Chisholm stood up proudly, even his wig suddenly seemed resplendent and addressed the jury,<p>

"In the last couple of days, you have heard and seen evidence of a number of serious injuries to Dr Alexander. It is the prosecution's position that those injuries were caused by Andrew Moorcroft; that he abused Dr Alexander on a regular basis and that over time the severity and ferocity of the attacks increased. We have presented evidence that his first wife also experienced injuries consistent with domestic violence and that a clause in her divorce settlement prohibits Andrew Moorcroft from ever making contact with his daughter.

My learned friend for the defence will try and convince you that someone else or anyone else could have caused Dr Alexander's injuries but I want you to consider carefully what you have heard today. The defence will tell you that Dr Alexander's colleague Dr Cunningham manipulated Dr Alexander's relationship for his own gain, that he could have been responsible for the attack that caused her unfortunate miscarriage, but it was Dr Cunningham's testimony that he only wanted to see Dr Alexander 'happy,' and that he felt so badly about letting her down as a friend, he was prepared to confess in this courtroom that he had 'hurt her,' when the truth is that he only ever hurt her feelings and his actions were always to try and protect her.

Andrew Moorcroft however testified that bruises to Dr Alexander's wrists and upper arms occurred consensually due to the passionate nature of their relationship. You did not ever hear him confess to worrying that he had hurt her feelings or that he had ever tried to protect her from injury.

This is your chance to weigh up the evidence that you have heard. It is your job to determine whether Andrew Moorcroft is guilty of the charges of grievous bodily harm, assault with a weapon, child destruction and or assault and battery. If you decide that he is; it is your job to return a guilty verdict. It is your job to ensure that no other woman has to be subjected to his domineering cruelty in the future."

Giles sat down again and rearranged the pile of papers on his table, a very slight smile on his face. Harry was still partly in shock. One of the legal secretaries at that firm must have been doing some serious digging to pull up the old police and hospital records. He or she certainly deserved a bottle of wine or two if he ever found out who they were. He had only half listened to Chisholm's final statements, it didn't seem to be earth shattering, but with everything else that had obviously gone on in the twenty minutes they had taken to get their coffee, he had done remarkably well.

Singh was having his turn now, and no doubt Judge Evans would sum up too, but Harry wasn't listening. Finally he was glimpsing daylight again on his path; he was leaving behind the densest part of the foliage, peeling back the last few creepers to find that the path beyond would begin to level out and he could finally emerge from the gloom. There was sure to be another part of the path up ahead where he lost his footing, or where the path disappeared from underneath him again, another ten seconds where his life suddenly shifted. But for now he was content to just put one foot in front of the other and to be able to see where he was going for once.

When Harry looked up next he noticed that the jury had already retired to consider the verdict. There couldn't be any question about his guilt could there? There weren't many people left in the courtroom now. There was no knowing how long a jury would take, he could take a walk outside in the real sunshine and return in time for the verdict but a heavy inertia weighed him down and kept him in his seat. He even wondered if he'd dozed off for a while and not even noticed. He switched on his phone and checked his messages. Leo had left one demanding to be called as soon as Harry was free. This could be because Leo wanted to be the first to hear the news, or he was hoping that Harry would be able to come back to work and catch up on the stack of files currently causing a pile up in his inbox.

It was only another twenty minutes, then the jury returned.

Nikki was conspicuously absent. It had been good having coffee with her today. They hadn't talked like that together for what seemed a very long time, and he was suddenly aware of how much he had missed her and her company.

"Have you reached a verdict?" Judge Evans asked the Foreman.

"We have, your honour," he replied.

"On the count of assault with a weapon, we find the defendant Andrew Moorcroft: not guilty."

Harry's attention was suddenly snapped back to the proceedings. He realised that his hands were clammy, his heart was pounding and he had to consciously try and control his breathing to stop from hyperventilating. This was not how it should go.

"On the count of child destruction, we find the defendant Andrew Moorcroft: not guilty."

He was glad now that Nikki wasn't there. She had been so strong throughout this whole business, her tenacity and compassion had amazed and humbled him, but he wasn't sure how she would cope if Moorcroft was acquitted.

"On the count of grievous bodily harm, we find the defendant Andrew Moorcroft: guilty."

Relief pooled through Harry's body.

"On the count of assault and battery, we find the defendant Andrew Moorcroft: guilty."

Moorcroft looked shocked and horrified in equal measure. He had relied on his charm throughout his life and suddenly he had been exposed and the handsome face and plastered on smile with the fake American teeth could no longer hide his inner aggression and brutality.

"These are serious charges Mr Moorcroft and I will defer sentencing until a later date, but I will make a recommendation that a minimum of a two year custodial sentence is given. Mr Singh I am sure you will wish mitigation and no doubt appeal. You will be held on remand until the sentencing hearing. That will be all."

And with that it was all over. Chairs scraped, people shook hands and left, Andrew Moorcroft was taken into custody. Harry didn't trust his feet to hold him quite yet so he called Leo and told him the verdict.

"Will you tell Nikki?" Harry asked him.

"Why would I tell her, Harry you've worked tirelessly for this for months?" Leo replied and hung up allowing no further discussion.

At that moment, the court usher stopped in front of his place in the gallery, and looked up to him.

"Congratulations," he called.

"Pardon?" asked Harry, not sure that 'congratulations' was really the correct sentiment.

"I never doubted you for an instant, you're a good man Dr Cunningham," he continued.

"It doesn't feel like it," Harry mumbled. "We've just got him disbarred, and thrown in jail."

"For something he deserved, something he was found guilty of," the usher said pointedly. "Don't you start to believe his lies. Weren't you about to call someone?"

Harry looked confused, but the man had moved on. It took him a moment to realise what he had been planning to do, before he had been interrupted. 'Oh yes; Nikki' he remembered.

Harry called her, she could always reject the call he reasoned.

"Harry," she answered, her voice heavy and overwrought.

"Do you want me to tell you on the phone or come and find you?" Harry asked gently.

There was a long pause until she said, "I'm back at the coffee shop, tell me and then come find me, please?"

"Nikki, it's ok they convicted him; GBH and assault and battery, the judge said a minimum of two years, he got off on the others but Nikki you did it, I'm so proud of you."

"It doesn't feel like a victory," she said hollowly.

"I know, I know, stay right where you are, I'm coming to find you."


	21. Chapter 21

The inertia that had plagued Harry in the courtroom suddenly evaporated and he flew along the corridors and out into the street and to the coffee shop they were in earlier. The late afternoon sunshine was bright, and his eyes found the interior of the shop too dark at first to spot her. Instinctively he looked across to the table they had shared earlier. She was there. Tears streaming down her face.

Harry's eyes gradually became accustomed to the darkness and he was aware of a couple of people close enough to see Nikki, looking awkwardly into their table, not knowing whether to ask if she needed help or just be British and carry on with their own coffee. One older lady looked particularly relieved as she realised Harry was heading over to Nikki's table.

He sat down opposite her and pulled one hand away from the face and gently held it in his. She could be crying for joy, but even he could see that wasn't the case. How he wished he could just hold her in his arms and make everything bad leave them alone for once. It used to work he mused, back when things were just complicated and not as they were now. For an instant way back then, he could pull her into his arms and they could shut out the whole world and just be content the two of them together, for an instant. But there wasn't even a word for what they were now; super-complicated maybe. There was bound to be a good German word to describe it, one of those really long ones.

"I thought he was the one," Nikki said sadly.

"I did too," Harry agreed.

"How could it have gone so wrong?" Nikki asked.

'Because he was a pathologically controlling psychopath with a side-line in violence,' thought Harry, but he knew better than to say it out loud.

"None of this was your fault Nikki, you did not bring this on yourself," Harry said sternly.

"Some of it, I did," she mumbled.

"Nikki!" he chided, but rubbed his thumb across her hand in what he hoped was a comforting fashion.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked, staring him straight in the face for the first time. "How could this happen to me?"

"Come on, Nikki. Let's get you home. Is your car here?" Harry asked unwilling to answer her question.

"No, I got the bus," she said.

"Come on then, I'll take you home."

"Don't let me stop you going out to celebrate," Nikki said suddenly as they walked up to his car.

"Don't get me wrong Nikki, there are many things I am relieved about, even happy about but nothing of what has gone on here these last few days is worthy of celebration, not with all the heartache and pain that is behind it all. Maybe in a month, but now, tonight I just want to be able to go to bed and sleep without worrying about you, or me or what tragedy the next day is going to bring," Harry explained.

"You worry about me?" Nikki asked, knowing the answer but needing to hear it from him again tonight.

"You know I do," he confirmed and put his arm round her shoulder, pulling her towards himself as they walked along together.

"Always," he added and kissed the top of her head for emphasis.

"You look exhausted," Nikki said later, as Harry pulled up as close to her building as he could, and was still illegally stopped in front of an access road. It was a fabulous flat, but the parking was a nightmare.

"I am; he admitted," running a hand through his hair. "Are you going to be ok?" he asked.

"Not for a while," she admitted.

"Do you want me to come in?" he asked.

"No, I'll be alright, and you'd probably not find a parking space closer than your house anyway. Thank you Harry; thanks for everything," she said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"You're welcome," he said and smiled warmly at her as she got out the car.

"Harry?" she called, reopening the door she had just closed.

"Did you forget something?"

"You said in a month," she began.

"I said what?" he interrupted.

"That we might feel like celebrating in a month," she continued.

"I don't think this is ever really going to warrant a celebration is it?" Harry asked glumly.

"Let's do something though, it'll be the summer solstice or near enough, let's do something just the two of us. Please?" she begged.

"That sounds lovely," he admitted.

"See you at the office," she said.

"Good night, Nikki, see you tomorrow," Harry replied.

He watched her walk up the road to her flat. When he lost sight of her he started the car and drove slowly up the street. She was waiting in the doorway, the door open behind her to wave at him. It was such a familiar routine, and yet tonight Harry could rest easy knowing that not only had Nikki made it back to her flat safely but that there was no longer any danger lying in wait behind the door. For the first time in a while he felt the muscles in his shoulders and jaw, begin to relax.

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><p><strong>See, it's almost fluffy, well getting that way.<strong>


	22. Chapter 22

**So now I've put you through so much misery I'm having fluff angst, and been struggling with these last few chapters. Hope it's ok. Thanks to my wonderful reviewers.**

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><p>Work at the Lyell continued as normal. Things weren't exactly strained between them, but it certainly wasn't smooth. Somehow that openness that they had shared in the little coffee shop; that Harry realised he had missed so desperately, did not return to the workplace with them. He was wary of making jokes, and without humour he wasn't quite sure what to say to her. He suddenly found the stack of paperwork blocking his in-box shrinking and when Leo made some crack about productivity he realised how much of his brain had been taken up recently with their personal issues.<p>

'Their personal issues' it sounded like they were together. The reality was that they most definitely weren't together but now Harry was confused again. Before Drew, Harry had been content to let her be happy with whomever she chose. But she had chosen Mr Right, even Harry had not been able to find fault with him at first and yet Mr Right had turned into Mr Catastrophically Wrong in less than six months. If even Mr Right was wrong, what hope was there? What guarantee was there that the next Mr Right; or Mr almost Right wouldn't turn out to be as bad.

Harry had always presumed that once upon a time he had held the place of Mr Backup, or Mr Safe Alternative for her, but the position didn't thrill him. He knew how devoted he was to her, but he couldn't get beyond the feeling that if she ever chose to take things further with him it would only be because she had decided to settle, and give up on the quest for her elusive Mr Perfect.

He didn't want to be Mr Backup; he'd rather be her friend than go down that route. She would end up despising him and he would lose her entirely. Better to keep her as a friend than to throw it all away. But he was still puzzled. She had initiated this 'date' or 'celebration' or whatever it was. He wasn't entirely sure what she wanted from it. Now Drew, he was someone who could plan a date. He had whisked her off to Paris and beautiful cities in amazing sports cars and got tickets for the sold out shows and the fanciest restaurants. Harry didn't do fancy. He barely managed interesting let alone exciting. He would have to think of something, it wasn't going to be easy.

It was to be the longest day of the year, so no point going somewhere to watch the sunset, not unless you wanted to be in the middle of a beautiful park at 10:30 at night, and every Londoner knows that that was not a smart move, their beauty and safety faded as quickly as the daylight.

If only he knew what she was looking for? If only he could stop feeling that it was all a competition some kind of comparison. In some ways he would prefer it to be a first date, at least that way he knew what he was preparing for. But they couldn't have a first date! First dates were all about lying and pretending to be better than you are, and making the other person interested in you. She had already heard all his stories, knew them by heart and knew when he was lying, what could he possibly say or do? She must also be vaguely interested in him, he reasoned otherwise why would she have stuck with him this long? It wasn't as if he had treated her well. His heart sank; no he hadn't treated her well at all.

At that moment Nikki walked up to her desk, and flopped down heavily into her seat.

"It is baking out there!" she exclaimed, flapping the top of her blouse in an attempt to improve the air flow.

"Where were you?" Harry asked sympathetically.

"Open deck of a multi-storey car park, fully suited up with the heat from all that concrete! I'm surprised the body hadn't started to cook, there's no way that the liver temperature is going to give us an accurate measure of time of death. Fortunately there's some CCTV footage."

Harry looked across at her, her cheeks and forehead were tinged with red.

"I think, you've caught the sun, did you have sunscreen?" he asked. He got her a glass of water and rooted in his desk for some paracetamol and sat back down opposite her. Her blouse was still open and he noticed she still wore Drew's ugly necklace.

"Thanks," she said gratefully.

"You still wear it," Harry said indicating the necklace.

Nikki's hand flew to her neck, "I… I …" she stuttered. "It was the only thing he bought me that wasn't after…after…"

"It's ok," said Harry, "I'm sorry, it's none of my business."

"I don't know why I haven't taking it off really," she said thoughtfully.

"So any ideas on what you'd like to do next week?" Harry asked in as off-hand way as he could muster.

"Next week?" she asked.

"We said we'd go out," he reminded her.

She looked up, startled by the memory.

"We don't have to," Harry quickly added as he realised she had forgotten all about it.

"No, Harry, I hadn't forgotten, I just didn't realise it was next week, the 20th is next Thursday isn't it?" Nikki hastily replied.

"Yes, next Thursday and I have a hearing on Friday morning, so it can't be too wild," Harry laughed.

"I'm sure you'll dream up something Harry," she said and smiled.

Harry wasn't so sure, but he did like to see her smile.

Nikki's phone rang.

"My partly cooked body has arrived," she informed him as she replaced the receiver.

"Off to work then," Harry said, shooing her away from his desk area.

She looked at him quizzically and stayed where she was; he was never usually so eager to get rid of her.

"Harry?" she asked.

"Go on, go, he'll be melting inside that body bag, get to work while you have a body and not a bag of soup."

For once Harry had had an idea and for once he was sure she was going to like it.


	23. Chapter 23

**This one seemed a bit short, so you got a bonus phone call to Mrs C in the middle. Dedicated to Hiroko and all the other mums out there; including mine, who hasn't mastered computing yet and so gets my dad to print it all out for her…sweet.**

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><p>Half hour later and Harry was less sure. The outdoor theatre in Regents Park was showing; predictably he realised, A Midsummer Night's Dream. They really didn't need to watch a play where everyone fell in love with the wrong person. She was bound to compare him to Bottom and not one of the heroes; he would never live it down. Even if Bottom was adored by the Queen, the Queen eventually woke up from her enchantment. It wouldn't do. He also wasn't sure he could stomach three hours of rhyming couplets, so that knocked Shakespeare off the list. Thinking about it, most of his plays were all about falling in love with the wrong people; or the people you think are the wrong people; or people pretending to be the right or wrong people. Definitely no Shakespeare.<p>

He used to like going to Greenwich, catch the water taxi, see the Cutty Sark, the Royal Observatory, find a bohemian café and walk across the Meridian line, it was a great date. Well, it was until the Cutty Sark burnt to a cinder and he didn't really want this to be a date date. The last thing he wanted to do after work on a Thursday was drag off south of the river. No, it wasn't going to be Greenwich.

How could they go on a date? Dates were like trying on off the rack suits, you kept going until you found one that fitted, or got bored and gave up. Nikki was no off the rack suit, she was tailor made especially for him. There was no question as to whether she fitted or not, the only question was whether he still liked her having tried her on, and then there was no way of returning. Maybe that was why this was all so difficult. There were no small steps anymore; they had proved their commitment to each other over the last eight years. Now it was just time to decide whether or not to take that final step.

He could talk to his mum; she might have some ideas for things to do. She usually managed to calm him down when he was fretting, they did have the unique capacity to get on each other's nerves at times, but he knew she only ever wanted him to be happy.

"Mum," he said as she picked up her phone.

"Sweetheart, what's up? It's the middle of the day aren't you at work?"

"Yes, I was just thinking about something else and I wondered if you had any ideas," Harry explained.

"You rang to ask me my advice?" she asked incredulously.

"Oh, laugh if you must Mum, I was just wondering; I promised to take Nikki out next week, as a kind of celebration, or relief that we got through the court case, and I'm really not sure what we should do. It's not as if it's a big celebration, but she insisted she wanted to do something and now she has told me to organise it."

"Is it a date?" his mum asked.

"I don't know," admitted Harry.

"Ah," came the understanding reply. "Well what does she like doing?"

"Working hard, solving mysteries, championing lost causes," Harry listed.

"You're not really being very helpful Harry," Anne stated.

"A bottle of wine, take out and a DVD?" Harry suggested.

"It's ok, but not special, you do still like her don't you?" his mother asked.

"I do," he replied.

"You could go to one of those celebrity chef restaurants, that would be nice without being over nice, or you could try a show. Did I tell you I saw the David Tennant, Catherine Tate version of 'Much Ado About Nothing?' It really was fantastic."

"I'm not sure I can face Shakespeare," Harry assured her.

"No, you're probably right, you were never a big fan, and that show's finished now anyway. When are you going?"

"Next Thursday."

"Look sweetheart, I'll have a think, and if I come up with anything I'll let you know. I have to go now. Sorry not to be much use. Bye darling."

"Bye Mum," Harry said and disconnected.

The trouble was Nikki had been to all the sold out shows, and book a year in advance restaurants. It would have to be more low key.

He had to think. It had to be something friendly but with touches of something special, but what? The special fried rice from Mr Li's was always special. But would it be special enough?

Leo came out of his office.

"Where's Nikki?" he asked.

"She went to start her PM on the body from the car park," Harry answered.

"Oh yes," he said, "I'd forgotten about that one, looks like you're the lucky winner then, this one's for you: the police are reporting a body lying under Prince Albert's horse in the middle of Holborn Circus."

"Under the horse?" Harry clarified.

Leo nodded.

"But isn't that on a massive plinth?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Leo replied.

"And it just appeared there half way through the morning?"

"Stranger things have happened," Leo said.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked with a grin. He took the piece of paper that Leo was holding out, and noted the address.

"Why did you want to give this one to Nikki?" Harry enquired.

"It's right in Hatton Garden, I thought she might like looking in the shops while she was there," Leo answered. "You know, cheer her up a bit."

"Nikki would never stop to window shop in the middle of a crime scene." Harry stated aghast. "And anyway isn't that place famous for diamonds and wedding rings? It's a good job she's not going there."

"Fair point," Leo said and returned to his office.

Sometimes Leo was so sharp, you had to take care not to cut yourself, but sometimes he could be utterly clueless. 'At least I'm not the only one,' Harry thought and collected his kit and left.

He wasn't anticipating the crime scene would solve his dilemma as to what to do with Nikki next week, but it would get his brain involved with some problem solving and he always did love a puzzle especially when he was certain there was a solution.

This one definitely had some logical solution. The police report couldn't possibly be right. A body could not appear halfway up a national monument in the middle of the morning without anybody noticing. He put his kit into the boot of his car and drove off towards Hatton Garden.

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><p><strong>I have the end written, what with the fluff angst and all that, but I always welcome suggestions. I'm sure they can be tweaked in ;)<strong>


	24. Chapter 24

**Yikes you all have such high expectations, I hope you're not too disappointed… Off to hide behind the sofa, let me know if it's safe to come out.**

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><p>The reports of the body being 'underneath' Prince Albert's horse were somewhat sensationalised Harry realised as soon as he arrived. The Circus was of course a roundabout and not a 'circus' but the distinction was becoming less clear, with the number of emergency service professionals wandering about at the scene. Harry was quite prepared to leave a lot of the investigative work to the police but the body was dressed in the clothes of a pedal cycle courier and a mangled bike was found in some shrubbery not too far away, there was a significant upward trajectory of the body that he couldn't explain yet but he was pretty sure that the results of the PM would report death from injuries caused by a road traffic accident.<p>

He walked around the pavement at the edge of the roundabout to try and gain a clearer picture of where the cyclist and a vehicle could have collided and found himself leaning against the window of one of the jewellery stores.

It had a plate glass window but instead of being filled with rows of diamond rings and expensive watches like the other shops in the area, it had an artist's work station in the window. There was no one sat at the desk, but Harry thought it was worth going in to ask if there had been someone sat there earlier today; someone who had seen what had happened. He was sure the police would have been in already, but Harry was curious, he could feel that familiar itch beginning; the one that wouldn't leave until he had solved every piece of the puzzle. He opened the door and the little bell attached to the hinge dinged.

It took a while before an elderly man came into the front part of the shop.

"Can I help you?" he asked in heavily accented English.

"I don't know I'm a pathologist; Dr Harry Cunningham, I'm investigating the accident that occurred earlier today. Do you know if the erm if there was anyone sitting at that desk earlier today, who might have seen what happened?"

"That is my granddaughter's desk, I always tell her she won't design jewellery by staring out of the window, but she still looks. She says it gives her inspiration. I can't complain though, look at her work, yafeem, err sorry, beautiful eh?" The man thrust some pages of intricate drawings towards him.

"It is very beautiful," Harry agreed. "Was she at the window this morning?"

"I'm not sure, I didn't come in until lunch time today, I'll ask her to come up," he said.

He walked to a doorway towards the back of the shop and called out.

"Shoshana, you have a pathologist up here who wishes to speak to you,"

"Not now, Zaide, I'm really busy," came the reply.

"I will come and finish your work, please come up Shoshi, it's about the accident."

A young woman with raven black hair, olive skin and blue eyes appeared at the door way. She handed over a tool of some kind to her grandfather, told him to be careful and walked towards Harry.

"Dr Harry Cunningham," her grandfather said over his shoulder in way of introduction and disappeared into the work shop.

"Did you see what happened to the cyclist this morning?" Harry asked.

"Yes and no," she answered. "By the time I realised what I was actually seeing it was all over and that poor man…" she broke off.

"I know it's difficult," said Harry, "but I will need you to talk to the police about what you saw."

He could see she looked hesitant. "I could ask them if we could do it here, you could show them exactly what you did see, where the vehicles were, and the cyclist when you saw them. It would save you having to go to the police station; you'd be able to get back to work much quicker that way."

"I could probably do better than that," Shoshana said as she made her way over to her table. She pulled a new sheet of paper from the pad and pushed the one she had been working on to the side, but nearer to Harry. The drawings showed a collection of earrings with elaborate metal work, and complex patterns surrounding beautiful gems.

"These really are beautiful," Harry commented as she furiously sketched images of the scene she had seen earlier. "Do you make the jewellery yourself too?"

"Yes, my grandfather helps, but his eyes are not as good as they once were, and my work is very detailed."

"What gives you the inspiration?" Harry asked. He never really understood art or artists. He could appreciate their work, he knew what was beautiful but to be able to create something, seeing something for more than what it actually was, it was thoroughly alien to his scientific mind.

"Oh lots of things, nature, pattern, emotion, faith. I have all sorts of starting places," Shoshana explained as she worked.

"And you just draw something and then you make it?" Harry asked.

"Yes, is that so unusual?" she laughed.

"It is where I work," Harry grinned. "I'm better at taking things apart."

They both laughed then.

"Here," she said and held up a series of sketches showing where the car had been coming from, where the cyclist was, the moment of impact and the direction the car left in.

"This is amazing," Harry admitted. "Come on, I recognise one of the Detectives out there, let's see if we can get this over with quickly.

"Zaide, can you come out front for a moment please?" called Shoshana.

The detective couldn't get over how fortunate he was to have an eye-witness. Shoshana handed over the sketches; there were plenty of CCTV cameras in the area so the case was becoming less complicated by the second. The Detective took Shoshana's details and left her to return to her work.

"See, I said it wouldn't be as bad as you thought," Harry declared.

"Thank you, I should have come out sooner, but it was just so horrible, I didn't really want to think about it anymore," Shoshana admitted.

"You've been a brilliant help, thank you so much," Harry said holding out his hand to shake hers.

"And you have been very kind to me too," she said. "If you ever need any designer jewellery, you know who to call," and laughed at the preposterous proposition but she continued by plucking a business card from her back pocket and handing it over to Harry.

Harry started to chuckle too at the thought of needing designer jewellery and then looked down at the card.

"Dr Cunningham, are you alright?" Shoshana asked.

Harry was staring open mouthed at the business card. There was the name of the shop, and Shoshana's name and in the bottom right hand corner a tiny but intricate dragonfly logo.

"This…" Harry stuttered pointing at the dragonfly, "this… can you make this?

"I can make anything," she said proudly.

Can you make it before next Thursday?"

"You'd better come back inside, there's another story needs telling here," she smiled and opened the shop door for him, letting the little bell ring above their heads.


	25. Chapter 25

Now it was Thursday and Harry was suddenly nervous. He had spent hours studying Time Out magazine, and he was none the wiser, all the events were too loud, too high brow, too grungy, too stuffy or too expensive. It was a Thursday night, he just wanted to spend time with his friend, he wanted to talk to her without having his ears assaulted and he wanted above all to avoid the two of them doing anything that involved large quantities of alcohol. He really did have a hearing tomorrow, but that wasn't the only reason he didn't want to wake up with the hangover from hell in the morning. HIs mother hadn't come up with any other suggestions either.

He was glad now he hadn't chosen any outside activities, the scorching sun of the previous week had gone and it had rained continuously for the last two days. There was still the inevitable talk of hose pipe bans for most of the south of England for August, but June had had one of the highest recorded rainfalls since records began.

So instead he had planned an evening at his flat, boring, predictable maybe but he hadn't spoken to Nikki properly for months, he didn't want to sit next to her through some film unable to talk to her for another ninety minutes, or be trapped into social conformity at some fancy restaurant. He just wanted everything to be perfect; being at his flat meant he had far more control over events and it would hopefully be more relaxing, so he had tried to banish the nagging feeling that he was playing it safe and that he really should have made more of an effort.

He had told her to come over after work.

"Do I need to change?" she had asked.

"No, come as you are," he had assured her but he was certain he saw her face fall with disappointment; he had got it wrong with her so many times before. He knew it was only a matter of time before she gave up on him altogether; he had to make this evening work.

He'd tidied up the debris of work, files and post that always seemed to gather on his dining table, and set out the things for dinner. He wasn't cooking, but she didn't need to know that, although she would probably guess. He had stared at the candlesticks in his cupboard for a while, wondering whether to add them. He didn't want it to look too much like a romantic dinner, and besides staring into a candle flame no longer evoked calming and pleasant memories for him. He closed the cupboard leaving the candlesticks inside.

However lined up on his dining table instead were four wrapped parcels, it would be up to Nikki which one she chose to open as to what they ended up doing, or at least what order they did things. He couldn't beat Drew at making up imaginative dates, and if he had managed it this once, he wouldn't be able to keep it up, and so he decided to stick to being himself. If this was some kind of attempt on her part to review their relationship, he wanted her firmly in the driving seat. He had messed things up last, he just had to apologise, she had to show him whether he was forgiven or not.

Harry was slightly worried by his present theme, but he decided it wasn't presents that Nikki didn't like, it was the reason behind Drew's presents that had made her so sad. His parcels weren't hard to guess one was definitely a DVD, one a pack of cards, one was a book of photographs, that was harder to guess and harder to come by. He knew she had loads of photos, Christmas parties, their trips to Africa, the day Leo had collected his MBE and he had gone through her desk one day when she was out and found a whole stash, he'd hacked her computer too and found some more, Leo had a few and he had even fewer, but by the time he had finished he was quite pleased with what he had accomplished. It showed most of the highlights and would be he thought something she would enjoy looking through with him.

Then there was the fourth package. Shoshana had listened carefully to all the details Harry could remember about Nikki's necklace and had created an absolutely stunning piece of jewellery. It wasn't identical to the one she had before, but in a way he was glad, it made it something new; not just a substitute. He didn't want to replace what the old one symbolised but she did really need to get rid of those chains. Harry didn't usually like buying expensive items, not frivolous ones anyway, but this was so much more satisfying than the camera he had bought for her; he hoped she would like it.

He looked at the gifts lined up on the table and wondered what she would choose, they represented all the aspects of their complicated relationship in some way; the DVD companion, the game playing intellectual partner, the shared memories of a long term family friend. He wondered if the necklace was a step too far. Was it too bold? Did it look like the gift of a lover? Or the consent to let her fly away and make her own choices? Did she want this to be an evening to be a way of saying thank you; grateful for all Harry's help in helping to get Moorcroft behind bars or was it to show that he, Harry was finally forgiven for his stupidity and that the once extinguished possibility of something more, could be reignited? Or would that just make him Mr Rebound?

He couldn't ponder any longer as the buzzer sounded.

"I bought wine!" she said enthusiastically as she bounded into his apartment. "I've not been here for ages," she said as she twirled round to notice the changes. "Something smells nice, did you cook?" she asked.

Harry laughed, "fortunately for you no! But it is probably ready if you are. Would you like to take a seat?" He pointed towards the table in a mock bow.

"I might be safer supervising in the kitchen," she claimed but made her way towards the table as she was asked and began to open her wine.

Harry reappeared moments later carrying two plates, and put them on the table.

Nikki peered in unceremoniously and sniffed.

"This looks like Mr Li's special fried rice, Szechuan chicken, stir fry vegetables and pork balls," she said.

"Ah yes, but it is served on a plate," Harry said proudly.

Nikki burst out laughing, "I've missed this!" she said and held out her glass of wine.

"Cheers!"

"Cheers!"

"I'm really sorry," Harry said quickly before he lost his nerve.

"What for?" Nikki asked, but she could sense he wasn't apologising for getting take out and not taking her out somewhere special. "Oh," she said as she realised what was still troubling him. "Harry, it was a mistake, I'd forgotten all about it, you have more than made up for it with all the help you've given me, I'm not entirely blameless you know."

"Thank you," he replied with a sigh of relief, and noticed her eyes smiling at him across the table.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while.

"What's with the Daily Telegraph?" she asked.

"Hunh?"

"The Daily Telegraph? Because if you want me to finish the last three clues in that crossword for you, the questions are wrapped under the other side," she explained.

"You said you wanted to celebrate," Harry said. "So I got you gifts. Celebrations always involve gifts."

He saw her eyes light up at that, her curiosity piqued and a challenge and puzzle presented for her to solve.

"That one looks like a DVD," she said picking up the DVD and assessing its weight and shaking it a little.

Harry just raised an eyebrow but didn't reply.

"That one," she said putting down her chopsticks and feeling the pack of cards, "that one feels like a pack of cards," she claimed and even Harry could see some of her initial exuberance dissolve. For the first time he dared to believe that she had made this 'date' because somehow they were finally ready to move beyond the card games and DVD's.

"You didn't spare any expense on the wrapping did you?" she laughed.

"It's the thought that counts," Harry retorted.

She picked up the book next, and felt along the edges. "It's a book of some kind, but it's not a novel, it's the wrong shape, I'm not sure about that one."

Harry smiled, her inquisitiveness was back.

She picked up Shoshana's small package last. He had wrapped her beautiful gold and cream gift wrap with newspaper too. It had seemed a shame to cover it up, even the wrapping was a work of art but it had to fit in with the others: 'all that glitters is not gold,' and all that, and he had promised himself no Shakespeare, he thought wryly.

"There are extra sweet and sour pork balls," Harry said as she was still investigating the little present.

"Do I have to wait to finish my meal before I can start unwrapping them?" she asked.

"Of course," insisted Harry and then began to worry that this whole present thing was too controlling and he was doing exactly what he had decided he wouldn't do and that he had wanted her to take the lead.

"Are you having any?" she asked.

"Do you need to ask?" Harry replied.

"And you would want me to wait until you'd finished?"

"Naturally," Harry insisted.

"Bring them here then, it'll be quicker if we share them!"

Harry laughed as he headed back to the kitchen.

"Am I allowed to play twenty questions to guess?" Nikki called after him.

"Eat your pork balls, and choose one to open," he smiled.

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><p><strong>So which one will she choose? Let me know if you think I've totally gone off the rails here, please?<strong>


	26. Chapter 26

**For Florencia to celebrate the end of her exams and tigpop for making me laugh so much. Thanks too if you added a review and for the reassurance I wasn't having a total breakdown (you are allowed to disagree...all comments are welcome)**

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><p>"So the gifts are the choices of what we can do tonight," she clarified.<p>

"Sort of," Harry answered.

"So I could choose to watch a mystery DVD with you, or play cards or …" she tailed off.

"I'm not telling you what's in those last two; you will have to pick one." Harry said sternly.

"Big is always better, right?" she said, trying to catch his eye; trying to work out which one he wanted her to open.

"I don't know Nikki, come on make a decision," he stood up and collected the wine glasses and took them over towards the sofa. "Hurry up and choose one and bring it over here."

Nikki picked up the wrapped book and sat down next to Harry, she was still scrutinizing his face to see if she had made the right decision.

"Nikki, this is about what you want not what I want," he insisted.

"But it's so hard when I don't know what all the options are she said, "for all I know there's an ipod in that last box, filled with a compilation of 'classics' from your youth for me to endure. I keep telling you; musically the Eighties were not great!"

"So it's this one," Harry tapped the book. "Open it up then,"

Nikki unwrapped the parcel and found the canvas covered book. There was no title, so she opened the first page; there was a photo of her peeking out from under a too long fringe, and Harry behind, his hair shorter than short and wearing a parka.

"Harry," she exclaimed and then, "don't you look young!"

"Thanks!" he laughed, "it was eight years ago, at least I've still got my hair!"

She ruffled it for him, "yes, you've been lucky."

"I'm still not sure that's a compliment," Harry muttered.

She quickly turned to the next page, realising as she did so that Harry had filled all the pages with photos from her time at the Lyell. There were some out of focus ones from a variety of Christmas parties, but the smiles could still be seen. Some from the lab, when she had found her camera in her bag on a slow afternoon and they had taken turns pulling silly faces and taking pictures. There were pictures from Africa, both the trips and some from their days out and conferences they'd attended.

"That hat really was ridiculous," Nikki commented as she looked at the pictures from Africa.

"Why thank you very much," Harry said sincerely.

"Look," she exclaimed. "I remember that day…" and she was off retelling the stories that they both knew, but were happy to remember and rediscover.

Harry began to relax for the first time all evening, he was having fun listening to her chatter on about the pictures, and for the first time he really believed that he had done the right thing by not taking her out. Sat together on his sofa they were far more at ease; she was his friend, not just some girl he was trying hard to impress.

"Look at that one!" she gasped pointing and giggling again.

"Why are there a photos of me standing next to my fridge and you next to yours?" Nikki asked.

"Oh, I've had those on my phone for ages," Harry replied. "Do you remember that time when you got knocked out and couldn't remember which way your fridge opened? When I took you home from the hospital I took the photo, so if it ever happened again, you wouldn't have to worry and I'd be able to tell you."

"And the picture of you next to your fridge?" she asked.

"Oh I can never remember which way my fridge opens, I thought I'd better take one just to be on the safe side," he replied.

"Harry, that is ridiculous," she laughed and turned over to the next page. Harry tried to refill her glass but discovered the wine bottle was empty.

"Would you like some coffee?" he asked "I've got decaff."

"Thanks Harry, that would be great," she answered.

She was still poring over the book when Harry returned.

"What did you find now?" he asked.

But her face as she raised it to meet his, was not smiling as it had been when he left, she looked positively sad.

"Nikki, What is it? What's the matter? Don't you like it?" he asked suddenly concerned that he had done the wrong thing after all.

"All these times," she explained. "These were the happy times, but do you know why they were happy? Look there," she pointed. "The three of us together looking at elephants but we were only happy because we had solved and survived another tragedy and were going home. And here she stabbed her hand at another picture of the two of them together; do you know why we were together that day? Because I had been stood up and dumped by my loser boyfriend of the day and you had taken me out to cheer me up. Harry, my life is just one big tragedy, and here it is documented in pictures," she cried.

"And what if it is?" Harry asked. "Doesn't it make the happier times sweeter?"

"That's just crap, Harry," she retorted.

"Not entirely," he replied.

Nikki turned to the final page; it was a picture of her and Harry and Leo, and Leo's MBE. They were all smiling, but the scar across Harry's eyebrow was still really noticeable.

"Some of my life's been pretty rubbish too," he admitted quietly pointing at the picture. "But it has always been better for having you in it," he said seriously.

"I'm sorry Harry, I didn't mean to sound ungrateful, the book is beautiful but seeing the last eight years laid out like that, it seems like I've wasted so much time and I still don't seem to have got anywhere." She placed the open book down on the table and turned to face him as she finished her little speech.

"I know you've had disappointments Nikki, but we said we'd celebrate tonight, the old had gone the new has come and all that, please don't be sad, I didn't mean to make you cry, I should have thought more…"

"Shh," she whispered placing her finger against his lips. "It's beautiful Harry, it must have taken you ages, thank you," she said and leant forward and placed a kiss on the lips she had just touched with her finger.

"You have always been there for me," she said, tapping the book for emphasis "and I couldn't have managed without you, you've saved my life more times than I can remember now," she looked deeply into his eyes and found herself suddenly mesmerised by them and drawn back towards his lips.

The second kiss was much more than a thank you kiss, but Harry broke away. He had noticed the change in her, seen her demeanour suddenly move from friendly to intimate and he couldn't help but be worried.

"Nikki," he murmured his eyes drawn to her mouth and the lips he had just tasted. "I can't be your fall back guy, just being the one who was always there for you isn't good enough for me. I need you to feel for me too, and to know that this isn't just because I was the only one available."

She pulled away, she really hadn't expected to be kissing Harry, this evening and his words had caught at her heart. Harry was important to her, but truthfully he was that the person she relied on to be there when she didn't have any better options. Poor Harry, she could understand why he was being cautious. She really was trouble. He'd had more than his fair share of manipulative women in the past, Rebecca was that her name? And there were others who had just used him and moved on when they had got what they wanted and left him broken hearted.

But then things had changed so much between them in the last year she wasn't entirely sure anymore what she thought, there had been something in that second kiss, something that had never been there before when they had kissed. Something that hadn't been there when she'd kissed anyone else before either.

"Harry, you're the best," she said.

"The best at what?" he said carefully.

But she didn't answer and Harry knew that his status as best friend still remained.

"Come on," he said jumping to his feet and pulling her up. We are supposed to be celebrating and there are three more gifts to unwrap on the table. He whirled her round and stopped her in front of the table, and retreated to the sofa to see which gift she would choose next.


	27. Chapter 27

Nikki felt her heart pounding as she went back to choose the next gift. She knew Harry wanted her to open the smallest package, she had seen it in his eyes the minute she had first tried to guess the contents of the four gifts at dinner. She was glad that she had opened the book first, it had reminded her of all the times when Harry had been there for her, all the fun they had had together.

But it had also made her question what she wanted of him now. In the past he had always found a way of hiding, or running away if she ever expressed an interest and then there was Hungary and the morning that should never have been. It had really made her doubt his feelings for her. He had been the one to pull away from her kiss just now, was it because he really wasn't interested? Or he really was interested but only if he came first? She didn't understand it, if she was that important to him, then why had he picked up that other dreadful girl?

He had apologised to her on so many occasions, and he had again this evening but at the time his thoughtless actions had really stung.

She had nursed that hurt, his rejection for a month or so, until she discovered something that really hurt. It wasn't Harry or any of his stupid, ill thought out affairs.

It was Drew's fist.

That was a humiliation of a totally different scale.

She looked back at Harry, who was watching her every move from the sofa. He had seemed to have been in her life forever, she certainly couldn't imagine what her life would be like without him. She'd tried those few days in Hungary. It was dark, bleak and hopeless. But if this was his attempt at a 'date;' was this what it felt like? Was this, what coming to their senses was like? It seemed rather ordinary.

She looked back to the table, this was an evening with Harry, four badly wrapped presents and nicely presented take out. Is that all she could expect from life? Wasn't there some element of mystery or excitement he could achieve? She sighed and looked at the row of gifts. She could take the safe option and take the DVD, and they could stay friends forever. It was already after nine, one DVD and then it would be time to leave.

But that wasn't really what she wanted anymore.

"Come on Nikki, what's taking so long?"

She knew what she had to do, she reached out and picked up the smallest package and took it back to the sofa.

"Aha!" said Harry, "the mystery package."

She carefully tore off the newspaper and revealed the beautiful gold wrapping underneath.

"Harry?" she asked, her hands beginning to shake now. This was obviously not some stupid little present, or even one he had spent time on and made himself. He couldn't possibly even have wrapped this one, it was exquisite.

"That's wrapping paper," Harry pointed out.

"It's beautiful!" she said.

"But yet, it is the wrapping paper," he confirmed. "You're supposed to take it off."

Nikki began to carefully peel off the paper, trying not to damage it.

"Would you like me to fetch you a scalpel?" Harry asked. "I'm sure I could find one somewhere round here for you."

She finally eased the small jewellery box out of the wrapping; she looked up at Harry quizzically. She had never seen that look on his face before.

"What?" he asked.

"Your face," she answered.

"You're not going to tell me I've got that look on again, what was it, my lonely look," he replied.

"No, your lost look, no this one isn't lost. Harry what is in this box?" she asked her voice quivering with fear and anticipation in equal measure.

"Open it," he begged.

She lifted the lid and stared open mouthed at the beautiful dragonfly necklace.

"Where did you find it?" she stuttered.

"A gentleman never tells his secrets," he said cryptically, but as Shoshana's name and address were printed on the box, it wasn't a great mystery. "I know it's not exactly the same, I couldn't describe it quite right and I tried drawing it but…"

"You tried drawing!" she spluttered and then more quietly, "you had this specially made, just for me?"

"I did," he replied unable to repress the broad smile that was plastered across his face. He had known in his heart that this was the right choice for the evening but it hadn't stopped him worrying. Seeing her sat there on his sofa, dazzled and delighted by her new necklace was better than any concert or overpriced restaurant.

Nikki looked from her necklace to Harry and back to her necklace again. She had definitely underestimated Harry. This evening was turning out to be anything but ordinary after all.

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><p><strong>So is it all plain sailing now?...<strong>


	28. Chapter 28

**This one's for hopelesslyhalfhearted, with thanks for all the reviews, you must hold the speed record, you're incredible. And of course I was naturally thinking of all those things in Flossie's beautiful review about dragonflies, click and read it, it's amazing. Or was I just thinking Drew's terrestrial and ugly, Harry's ethereal and beautiful? You decide! ; )**

**Harry hugs to all the reviewers and necklaces to you all if we make it to 100. Hope it's ok.**

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><p>"It's exquisite," she purred lifting it out of its box.<p>

"May I?" asked Harry, gesturing towards the necklace in her hand. She handed the necklace over, and scooted around on the sofa so her back was turned towards him as she sat forward in the seat. She scooped up her hair into her hands and revealed the pale skin of her neck, and her other necklace.

Harry nimbly took off Drew's ugly necklace and placed it on the table next to her coffee, then carefully fastened the dragonfly one around her neck.

"You have your wings back at last," Harry said and couldn't help but kiss the bare skin where her neck met her shoulder.

She had moved her hands from her hair to her face and Harry could tell she was crying again. He didn't quite know why, he hoped to the bottom of his soul, it was not because he had taken the liberty of kissing her but rather that they were tears of relief at finally being released from Drew's clutches.

He couldn't bear to watch her crying but he wasn't sure how to reach out to hug her from his position behind her. He ended up putting his left arm gently over her shoulder and his right arm around her waist, and pulled her back against him, resting his head on her shoulder. The minute he'd done it; the physical memory of the time he'd held her like that before came flooding back to him, and he couldn't help the catch in his own voice as he mumbled sorry to her over and over again.

"I didn't mean to make you cry," he whispered when her tears subsided.

"I'm not…sad…" she choked out.

She might not be sad, but his whole body was wracked with emotion, his guilt for abandoning her before, his relief at having her back, his hope that finally the separate paths of their lives would connect and not remain forever parallel. And all that alongside his escalating desire for her. She had never been this close before, he had held her in his arms of course many times before, but there was more tonight than just a physical closeness between them, there was an honesty, an openness and a clarity that was always usually submerged by fear and circumstance and silence. Now was the time for talking.

"That lost look, you claim I have," he whispered into her ear. "You are right, I do have one, although I didn't realise it until you pointed it out to me the other week. I am lost, so very lost. It's when I think about what I did to you. It's you I've lost; it's you I've hurt; it's you pressed up against me like this grieving, crying. I can't get that sound out of my head" he breathed. "I put you through so much pain, I can't forgive myself, I am so sorry."

Nikki twisted sharply in his arms so she was looking at him, he wasn't covered in blood this time, and he'd shaved and he didn't smell of cigarettes but the intensity in his eyes was just the same.

"You don't have to be sorry anymore; you have more than made up for it now. Harry they would have killed you, and then where would I be? You can forgive yourself Harry. You can! I forgave you a long time ago," she said. "You have been everything to me, I know I haven't shown it and I know you think you're second best but that is not true. Harry you are the only one…" she stopped to choose just exactly the correct words. "You are the only one who lets me be me. I don't have to be something I'm not when I'm with you and you know exactly what I want and you don't have to make a big song and dance about it, it's just natural. Look at what you've done tonight Harry…"

"What takeout and a DVD?" he said half ashamedly.

"No, Harry, you thought about what I would like, what was important to me and you let me choose. You are the only man I have ever known that I can be myself around and who still wants to spend time with me."

"That can't be true," Harry replied.

"It is true, the others I try and be something I'm not and I hate myself and I hate them more. Harry you have always accepted me as I am, and somehow you still like me."

"I do," Harry said wiping away a tear from her face.

"You're too good for me," she said.

"No, I'm not," he said wryly. He gently touched the dragonfly on her necklace.

"It suits you perfectly," he said.

"You suit me perfectly," she replied smoothing his eyebrow where the scar was still just visible.

Harry was sure this was the moment when his phone would ring, that he would be dragged out to some awful crime scene for an evening of maggots and mud. But for once the phone didn't ring, and for once he didn't lose his nerve and run away but he wasn't quite sure what to do next.

"Do you want to watch that DVD then?" he asked, a goofy smile making his wishes quite clear.

"No," she giggled.

"Cards?" he asked.

"No," she laughed again.

"It's not regular cards, you know, they are top trumps, chemistry top trumps no less, atomic number, weight, date of discovery etc." he rambled.

"Thanks, but I can think of something else," she smiled.

"You're sure?" he asked.

"Are you?" she returned his question.

"You're not just settling?" he asked.

"How, could you call this settling?" she remarked touching one hand to her new necklace, and the other to his face.

He leant forward and kissed her gently. Things would have been so different, he reasoned if they had just kissed that time before, despite his messed up brain, his panic, his fear and loss, her fear and suspected loss. He had sensed the ferocity of her grief, the aching chasm that yearned to be filled and silenced. But he had vowed never to motivate her to silence by kissing her again after that first time and his inner emptiness would have never satisfied her. Besides they were sat on the steps of a place to remember the dead, it really wouldn't have been right. And it certainly wouldn't have got them to the place they were in tonight.

He drew back and looked at her, her face glowing now; a brightness to her eyes he hadn't seen for a long time.

"You know in the trial," she began.

Harry pulled his hand through his hair; he hoped this wasn't suddenly going to turn into a question about his description of her as like a sister to him. That hadn't seemed to be where they were heading a moment ago.

"You said you'd hurt me,"

"I have Nikki, I know I have…" she put her hand against his lips again.

"Harry, stop," she said. She reached forward and closed the book of photos that had lain open on the table in front of them. "I know you think you have let me down in the past, but you Harry have been my only friend, and I know you always will be. It's time to move on; forgive and forget our mistakes. You said it yourself, the old has gone the new has come, I wanted tonight to be about a new start or a new chapter," she nodded towards his book. "Let's start again, no more regrets, no more raking up the past. Promise me?"

"I promise," he replied.

"Come on we're supposed to be celebrating," she said in response to his long face.

"I'm not actually very good at celebrating," Harry admitted, "and you don't want to unwrap the rest of my presents," he said.

"Harry!" she giggled. "You know what to do now."

"But I thought this evening was about you choosing," Harry said.

"I'll get the cards then shall I?" she giggled in that totally erotic way of hers and stood up.


	29. Chapter 29

Harry jumped to his feet behind her and watched her incredulously. She picked up the packet of cards and turned to face him.

"What?" she asked in mock innocence. "You are always the one telling me to be careful on first dates!" she laughed.

"This is a date?" he asked.

"Do you want it to be?" she chuckled.

"Yes, I do," he said seriously and watched her face to interpret her reaction. He was relieved to see her smile remain, a happy, unforced and comfortable smile.

Harry took a step towards her; she definitely was perfect: they could really do this, be friends; share a joke; laugh together and be lovers. This really was going to be a moment that changed his world forever, and for once he would be glad when it lasted longer than ten seconds.

"I am unquestionably and undeniably in love with you," he said catching her hand lightly in his.

"What because I'm going to beat you at top trumps?" she replied.

"No, because you're in love with me too and I can finally stop pretending that being friends with you, is enough for me," he replied watching her mouth all the while and moving closer and closer to her.

He waited, their eyes locked together, lips less than a couple of inches apart. He had waited for years; he could wait for her now. So he did just that; he closed his eyes and waited.

Instead of feeling her reach towards him and kiss him, he felt her hand lightly touch his chest and she began to walk, circling around him. The feel of her hand on his chest was calming and arousing at the same time; an anchor that proved whatever she was doing; she wasn't running away, she was just taking her time. She trailed her hand across his chest, around his arm and over his back. She stopped behind him and whispered,

"I was wrong about you Harry."

He didn't reply but leant his head back against hers.

"I accused you once of being good at taking things apart, but not so good at putting them back together."

"I remember," he mumbled his eyes still shut fast.

"It's not true Harry, you have put me back together and more than once. I have never trusted anyone the way I trust you."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut even tighter aware of the magnitude of her confession. He remained perfectly still, although part of him wanted to grab her, hold her tight and kiss her as she had never been kissed before, but he knew instinctively that sudden movements and holding her tightly were not what she needed; so he let her continue, and hoped his stillness would reassure her of his intention to never run away from her again.

Having made it round to the right hand side of his body she trailed her fingers down the length of his arm and squeezed his hand in hers.

"Everything tonight Harry, you, everything has exceeded all my expectations, there is no comparison Harry, you are leagues above the rest," she explained and let go of his hand and drew her hand back up his body and over his chest.

Harry didn't really understand all she was doing but he was acutely aware of the effect it was having on him, part of him was still cool and calm, willing to let her take the lead but the other part was literally trembling with desire, all that stuff he had thought earlier about being able to wait, it wasn't true. His entire being was burning to pull her into his arms, and make love to her until they were both sated and exhausted.

He tried to concentrate on his breathing, slow and steady but she was so close to him, every breath seemed to inhale more of her perfume and more of her.

This journey or whatever it was she was on was obviously important to her and so he listened and let her words melt the remaining doubts and fears he harboured deep within his heart. He had decided that she would set the agenda for the night; that he would just provide the props, so he let continue her strange orbit. She reminded him of a cat, turning round and round on a cushion before finally finding the best position to sit in, but once chosen remained totally contented.

"You are not second best, Harry," she said, her breath tickling his ear "I choose you. Above anyone else, I choose you," she declared and came to a stop.

"Do you believe me?" she asked her voice low and husky.

"I do," he replied.

It was a long time to stand with your eyes closed, he felt like he was losing his balance and he yearned to open them, to read in her face what she was thinking and not just rely on her words and touch. But now she was no longer trailing her finger tips across his body, she had reached up and was unbuttoning his shirt. Instinctively he took hold of her hands to stop her, his eyes snapping open.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Celebrating," came the seductive reply.

He raised his eyebrows at her begging her to explain, but without trying to scare her off.

"I thought you wanted me to open all of my presents," she said stepping even closer towards him and replacing her hands on his shirt buttons, "so I'm opening one."

"I wasn't aware I was on the table," gasped Harry as she deftly removed his shirt.

"This was always on the table," she proclaimed.

"Wouldn't you find the bed more comfortable?" he said cheekily.

But she had continued with her unwrapping and the time for talking was over.

"Nikki!" he had time to gasp before his impatience overtook him and he initiated the passionate kiss they had both been anticipating for so long.

With Nikki in his arms he didn't care how far down the path he fell, because they were together, they would always be together. He had a purpose and a companion and a lover; surely things didn't get better than that?

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" he mumbled into her skin.

"I love you."

Ok, so maybe they did.

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><p><strong>Be kind…you know I do angst better than fluff. One more to go my lovelies and then that's the end.<strong>


	30. Chapter 30

**I know I know, I'm sorry it is the end, but in my defence it is long…**

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><p>Harry was sliding, half flying, half falling; it was rather like that time he'd tried snowboarding only there wasn't any snow and there was a lot less panic. Eventually his momentum slowed and he found himself emerging from a path and bumping into the sunlight at the edge of the clearest river he had ever seen. Small fish played in the shallows, and mayflies danced above performing perfect pas de deux with their partners. Further downstream the water tumbled over smooth rocks to a larger deeper pool beneath, which reflected the sides of the steep gorge. There were trees all around, and a sandy area that would be perfect for picnics. He felt hot and dirty from the descent; pieces of tree and grass were stuck to his hair and clothes and there were mud stains and worse up his legs and arms.<p>

The sun danced on the water, Harry could feel its warmth prickling his skin; it was a pleasant contrast to the shady path he had been on. He stripped off quickly and waded out into the inviting water. It was freezing. Freezing but refreshing, rejuvenating even. He clambered over the little water fall and jumped into the deep pool below. This time his body was fully submerged by the water and as he came up for air he had the overwhelming feeling of newness. A clean start and the certain knowledge that wherever he was, he had finally arrived and that this was where he belonged.

He climbed out of the icy water and lay on the bank, his eyelids barely blocked out the strong sunlight and he listened to the birds singing in the trees above him. But even under the hot sun, his body didn't warm up as quickly as it should. He tried watching the patterns and colours the sunlight made on his eyelids a little longer, but it was no good. He was freezing.

He opened his eyes; the sun light was already peeking through his curtains and the dawn chorus was in full swing. The birds were obviously celebrating the end of the dreary days of rain. He looked at the clock: 3:30am. Now he knew why he had been so cold in his dream. He was cold; the entirety of his duvet was over Nikki, there was none left on his side of the bed. He reached over grabbed a handful, pulled it back and tucked it under the mattress on his side. 'That woman would steal anything of mine,' he thought, she moaned softly in her sleep but she didn't wake up.

He turned to face her, the early morning light highlighting the gold in her hair. He recalled his earlier emotions from his dream, his peaceful sense of belonging and newness. He could feel it now as he lay in his bed and looked across at Nikki, naked except for his dragonfly necklace. He couldn't help but stroke her hair as it streamed across his pillow. He hadn't anticipated that their evening together would have ended like this but he wasn't complaining. They had been good together, not perfect but it was a great start.

Actually considering the circumstances it had all gone amazingly well, he was terrified of pinning her down and inadvertently hurting her. She had smiled and assured him that she wouldn't break. But it nearly broke him; he could have saved her all that agony. But he couldn't change what was passed and he had promised her that he would move on. So he just tried to be gentle, without being entirely ineffective. The contraception question was never going to enhance the mood either. She had quoted the statistics that 40% of pregnancies miscarry; 'it was all nature's fine tuning,' she had said. He had stroked her face and kissed her cheek, and said how sorry he was. If believing in the statistics helped her deal with it, he wasn't going to take that from her, being hit repeatedly in the stomach with a heavy book, didn't seem like nature's fine tuning to him.

He pulled his duvet tight under his chin and tried to go back to sleep, but her presence in the bed distracted him. It was different. It was new. Maybe he was usually so drunk he didn't wake up in the middle of the night with a bedfellow. It was the following morning when he woke and his brain immediately kick started into action to work on three things: the girl's name, something complimentary to say, or at least the name of the pub they had been in, and thirdly how to get rid of her as quickly as possible.

This time as he lay in his bed looking across at Nikki he realised for a change that not only did he know her name, he knew her; really knew her, he could probably say complimentary things about her until it was time to leave for work, and he had no desire whatsoever to make her leave, ever. This was different. He needn't have worried that she wouldn't suit him. She seemed even more perfect now than she ever had before. Maybe this was one of those good changes Leo was always on about.

"Harry, I can hear you thinking, either kiss me, or go back to sleep," she said rolling round to face him, and opening her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," he apologised. He smiled at her, reassured that she obviously hadn't had second thoughts.

"You're beautiful," he said simply.

"So are you kissing me or not?" she asked.

"Really?" Harry replied, unable to believe his luck.

He gently pressed a kiss to her lips, "it's not even 4am yet, go back to sleep."

Harry tried to rediscover his riverside idyll in his mind's eye, but this time as he lay in the warm sun, he was comforted by his friend's presence beside him. He imagined looking back to where the paths had suddenly brought them out through the trees and to the sunlight beside the same pool, he could see their trails snaking down the gorge, sometimes far apart, sometimes almost touching but always together. Always together he thought and drifted back off to sleep.

The next thing he was aware of was Nikki's voice.

"Harry?"

"Hmm," he mumbled.

"Harry!" she repeated louder this time. "Harry! What time is your hearing?"

"Hmm, what, what hearing?"

"Harry, it's Friday 21st of June, you said you had to be at a hearing this morning," Nikki insisted.

"Oh, not until 9:30," he said confidently, aware that even without an alarm clock he usually woke at 6. "What time is it?"

"Quarter passed seven," she replied.

"What?" he said aghast sitting up in bed and flapping the duvet so the chill morning air made Nikki shiver. He made a grab for his phone.

"Nikki! It's 6:45!" he laughed, still amazed that he had slept in so late. "Why did you tell me it was quarter passed seven?"

"It soon will be," she laughed, and leaned over to kiss him.

This time there was none of the awkwardness of the night before, if he'd classified last night as good he suspected that very soon he was going to have to recalibrate his assessment scale. She was incredible.

Later Harry brought her some coffee and insisted she stay until he had showered and dressed, so he could drive her back to her apartment and she wouldn't waste half an hour looking for a parking space; she could just run in and do what she needed to do and he could drive around and pick her up when she was ready. There was a chance and just a chance they might both make it into work on time.

"Leo?" thought Harry and then quickly pushed the thought away.

"Was that my phone?" he asked, emerging from the bathroom with a towel wrapped round his waist, his hair still dripping.

"Yes, I answered it, I hope you didn't mind," she admitted. "I thought it might be Leo, saying we could stay home today."

"Liar," he laughed and quickly pulled the towel from around him and flicked it out at her with a loud cracking noise making Nikki laugh. He hoped it was from his trick and not the sight of him. Actually thinking about it he didn't care in the slightest, he was just happy to hear her laugh.

"Actually it was your mother," she said.

"Mum?" Harry asked anxiously, retying his towel. "What did she want?"

"I think she phoned up to see if you got lai…lucky," Nikki suggested changing her choice of words mid-sentence.

"She did not!" Harry retorted.

Nikki tossed him the phone, "she did!"

Harry scrolled through his call log. Had he told his mother what night the 'date' was?

"What did you say?" Harry asked.

"Well, she didn't seem at all surprised that I answered your phone at…" She grabbed the phone back out of Harry's hand and read the call log. "7:23am. The shower was on. I obviously wasn't at work. What did I need to say?" Harry laughed relieved. He'd grown weary of secrets over the last few months. He was glad his mother knew. "So what did she say?" he asked.

"Oh, when I said you were in the shower, she just said she was sorry to hear about all the troubles I'd been having…"

"And…" prompted Harry.

"Hoped that things would start looking up for me from now on…"

"And?" insisted Harry.

"Welcome to the family," Nikki said a slight blush rising in her cheeks.

Harry pulled her into a hug, "I am more lucky than you can ever imagine," he assured her.

"No, I am," she answered sincerely. "It's been a long time since I had a family."

"That's not true," Harry contradicted her. "You've always had me…and Leo."

"Leo!" she said and gasped her hand flying to her mouth.

"Come on let's get going," Harry said, "or we'll be late and we'll be in trouble before we start."

Nikki began to giggle. Harry took the coffee mugs back to the sink, and collected the abandoned cups and glasses from the night before. "What do you want to do with this?" he asked showing Nikki Drew's necklace.

"I don't want it," Nikki said quickly as she gathered up her things, her new photo album in pride of place at the top of the pile and headed towards the door. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

Harry imagined it burning his fingers; he didn't want it in his house a moment longer so he slipped it into his pocket. For the second time in a week he'd had a good and imaginative idea. He couldn't wait to see the smile on Nikki's face when he showed her the donation receipt in her name from the domestic abuse charity she had got involved in.

"What?" Harry asked in reply to her pointed stare.

"You're face," she replied.

"Oh not again!" he laughed, "Which one is it this time?"

"I'm not sure," she said. "I don't think I've seen it before, not before last night anyway."

"You really want to know?" he asked. Slipping his arm around her shoulders and leading her down the stairs. "It's the one where I'm thinking about ways to make you happy."

"Really?" she asked.

"Really," he confirmed kissing her lips as he did so.

"I think I'm going to like that one the best," she smiled, stopping to look him in the face.

Harry felt the familiar lurch, the world slipping away from underneath him, that overwhelming sensation that nothing in his life would ever be the same again. Ten seconds that changed his world, not just his world inside his flat, but the real world, the one on the outside too. He smiled back.

"Me too," he agreed as he pushed open the front door and they walked out hand in hand into the sunlight.

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><p><strong>There you go, thanks for sticking with this, especially when I was so mean to you in the beginning. I hadn't intended a fluffy ending when I was first thinking through this, but I'm glad it's there now, and originally it didn't have this last bit at all, but I couldn't miss the dancing dragonflies (even if they are mayflies in this one, I know they're not the same but close enough for me) not after Flossie's beautiful explanation of their symbolism. <strong>

**There have been some pretty heavy topics along the way, I am happy to say that very little is from personal experience; Harry's gorge is based on the Gorges de la Siagne, which I visited in the summer, google if you want a visual. We do have a set of chemistry top trumps in the house, but I swear it's a boy thing… Greenwich is great for a date and I've been known to jab myself with my fingernails at times of emotional stress. But please take Harry's words to heart, "it is not your fault," there are many charities out there who can provide specialist support for these issues but as always feel free to PM me if you wish, about this or anything else.**

**Thanks to everyone who took the time to read, and especially if you reviewed you are all now proud owners of a little piece of Harry styled jewellery.**

**D**


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